


Apartment 42

by fanfics_she_wrote



Series: forty-two [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 90s, Avengers - Freeform, Baby Tony Stark, Black Widow - Freeform, F/M, Idk what happened, Marvel - Freeform, SHIELD, Something went wrong, Winter Soldier - Freeform, and they were ROOMMATES, hydra is there, i swear this was supposed to be an 80s buckynat au, i will bribe your attention with Tony Stark, look i still don't know how to tag, pre-avengers more like, so is the red room
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:34:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 25,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21898243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fanfics_she_wrote/pseuds/fanfics_she_wrote
Summary: master and rival assassins unknowingly live together for almost a year, making sure their real jobs remain a secret from each other and everyone around them
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Natasha Romanov
Series: forty-two [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1593973
Comments: 3
Kudos: 46





	1. Chapter 1

The young woman raked her eyes over the money in the briefcase and smiled. "Beautiful," she murmured. 

"Well, it was a beautiful assassination." 

The man across her was faceless, but she didn't find anything odd about it. She simply smiled at him. "A pleasure doing business with you." 

"Likewise. I shall spread word of the Black Widow. Someone ought to require your services." 

Her smile grew. "That would be wonderful." 

"Although, I'd hide that pistol a little better. We wouldn't want anyone accusing you of going--" BANG!!

The sound continued three, four more times. She thought he was saying the word, but it sounded like something was pounding a fist against a door. 

Again, BANG - BANG - BANG!!

She closed her eyes and when she opened them again, she was staring up at an off-white ceiling through red lines. The banging was coming from the front door. Grumbling and groaning, she rolled out of her bed and into the hallway, nearly falling into the other - empty - room. 

BANG - BANG - BANG!!

"I'm coming!" she yelled as she stumbled into the adjoined kitchen, dining, and living room, tripping over a shoe as she reached out for the key on the table. 

Muttering curses under her breath, she undid the latches and jammed the key into the door. 

"Have you got my rent?" her landlord asked.

"Not yet," she grumbled, thinking about the money she had received in her dream.

"Then you get a new flatmate. Work out the rent between yourselves and if he decides to kick you out for not paying your share, I won't stop him. Enjoy the rest of your day." 

As he turned and left, she stuck her middle finger up and twisted her expression. She quickly fixed her appearance -- as best as she could in the large sweatpants and camisole, with her hair in knots wilder than the vines outside the apartment block -- when she noticed the young man with a bag over his shoulder and gave him a smile. "Hi." 

"Hi." 

"Tallie," she said, sticking her left hand out for him to shake. 

"James," he replied before reaching out to shake her hand. 

She frowned at their clasped hands. Something about his felt off, awkward. Like it wasn't quite human. She'd shaken the hands of manual labourers before and even they had softer hands.

"It's a prosthetic," he whispered, amused. 

Her eyes flew open and her jaw dropped. "Shit. I'm sorry. I didn't m--"

"It's okay. So . . . can I come in?" 

She suddenly remembered what a mess she'd made of the apartment. "How about I buy you breakfast and you give me two hours to clean up?" she asked with a hopeful smile. 

"If you tell me what Tallie is short for, I'll give your four hours." 

She thought about it. She could do with the extra time. "Natalia," she said, "but no one ever calls me Natalia." 

"Cute," he said with a grin, turning to leave. "I'll be back later with my stuff . . . Natalia." 

She watched him leave, whistling a tune as he shoved his hands into his pockets. Oh, how she wished someone would pay her to kill the landlord. 

Going into a spring-clean frenzy, Natalia zipped through the apartment, hiding it all. She removed the weapons from the spare room and found places to hide them in her own room. She raided the kitchen cabinets and made sure there were no traces of the chemicals she used to make poisons and their antidotes. She slipped on the tiles in the bathroom as she scrambled to make the first-aid kit look less like a disaster kit and more like your average home kit. 

When the four hours were up, she was sweating and breathing heavily, but the apartment looked clean, tidy and most importantly, as if there were no assassins living in it. The ringing doorbell made her jump -- and she hated that she'd been startled by it. 

Taking a deep breath and pushing the escaped strands of hair back, she opened the door. "Hi." 

"Hi," James said. "Is it safe to come in now?"

"Mhm. I'd just suggest a bedsheets change before you sleep. Unless you don't mind using mine? They smell like lavender." 

"Lavender," he said, nodding as he closed the door behind him, "I guess I'll tolerate it."

"Ha," she laughed nervously. "This is your key. Uh, bedrooms are down the hall, bathroom right at the end. This is the kitchen, dining room and living room. It's small but . . . livable."

Natalia didn't actually know if the apartment was livable or not. She barely spent more than three nights at a time in the apartment. More often than not, she was on stakeouts, waiting to hear for a job, or actually on a job. She hadn't received one for a while now and her dreams were beginning to manifest her raw desire for even a simple job. 

No job meant no money. No money meant no rent. She was beginning to accept that she might need a day job. 

"It's . . . very clean. Is -- is the toaster sparkling?" 

"Well, it's May first. About damn time I did spring cleaning anyway. Uhh, why don't you get settled and I'll get to work on dinner?" 

"It's four thirty."

"I can't cook very well." 

James nodded. "Right. Well, I will . . . be back out in a while." 

Natalia smiled as he disappeared into the hallway. Once he was gone, she allowed her terror to take hold of her features. 

How the hell was she going to convince him she lived a normal life -- and that she lived in the apartment? 

Damn that landlord.

* * *

"NO! YOU'LL START A --"

James sighed helplessly as the pan caught fire and Natalia screamed. 

"-- fire," he finished lamely. 

"I'm done. I can't do this. I'm ordering food." 

James raised his eyebrows. "Or you could let me try for once. I've been here one week and you've tried to poison me with burnt pancakes, raw chicken, expired milk, undercooked eggs, dead vegetables, and now you've somehow managed to set fire to the oil. Just . . . go watch the news or something. I'll call you in fifteen minutes." 

Sighing, Natalia stalked off, angrily turning the TV on. How hard could it be to pretend to be normal? Was it supposed to be this difficult to learn how to cook? Was she supposed to be this terrible at learning? 

Most importantly, how long would this charade need to go on for before she could start sneaking out again?

Surprisingly, exactly fifteen minutes later, James called her name. Switching the TV off, she got up and walked over to him. "Yeah?" 

"Taste this," he said, shoving a spoon in her mouth and turning back to the pot. 

She glared daggers at his back as she pulled the spoon out of her mouth, but she could not hold the glare. The soup was divine. 

"It's not bad," she grumbled.

"Not had?" James asked, laughing, "it's the best thing in this whole country!" 

"I doubt that," Natalia argued, leaning around James for another spoonful of the hot soup, "I mean, REO Speedwagon's Can't Fight This Feeling? Dirty Dancing? Lionel Richie's Hello? Soup is not on that list."

"You're a romantic, huh?" James asked, leaving the soup in Natalia's hands as he went to set the table.

"Am not," Natalia scoffed before taking another two spoonfuls of the soup. 

"Hey, you better leave some of that for me."

"Make your own damn soup," she muttered, leaning over the pot.

"I did!"

"It's mine now."

"You are unbelievable, Natalia! Move over."

"No, I want more. It's tasty." 

"You'll get more in a minute. Go get the cola I bought yesterday and put it on the table."

"But the soup--!" 

Natalia blinked and stilled sharply at the look James gave her. It wasn't the stern, parent-like glares he'd been giving her everytime she screwed up at the stove. It was cold, harsh, demanding. She couldn't tear her eyes away, but she knew she had to do as he said. Who knew what would follow?

When he finally turned away, it was as if someone had lifted a concrete slab off her chest. Quickly, she walked to the fridge. 

Natalia never realised it was the same look she gave the mirror on the nights when she prepared for a job. 

"So," she said once they sat down at the table, "where'd you learn to cook like this?" 

"Home," he responded, "my sisters love it. Sometimes I learn new recipes to impress them." 

"That's sweet. Are you the eldest?" 

"Mhm. What about you? Siblings?" 

Natalia shook her head. "Just me."

"Friends?" 

Natalia shrugged. "Not really. I actually--"

Natalia's phone lit up. James noticed that it was a private number. He waited patiently as she answered the phone, mouthing apologies whenever she wasn't speaking. 

"Yes, what time? . . . Now?! I -- okay. Where? . . . Right, I'll be there in ten." 

"Work?" James asked when she put the phone down on the table and sighed.

"I'm so sorry, James. You made all this and --" 

"I'll keep some in the microwave for you." 

"I'm really sorry, James." 

"It's all right. See you in the morning?"

"Yes. I'll be back by then," she said, getting up. He waved to her as she passed by on her way to the front door. No sooner had she gone out, did his phone ring.

He didn't even greet.

"We have a job for you. Central Park, thirty minutes." 

"Yes, sir. I'll be there."

Grabbing his jacket and his emergency bag, James left the apartment.

* * *

"Howard Stark? You want me to take Howard Stark out?" 

"Is that a problem for you, Soldier?"

"Uh, yes! The man's reportedly been considering hiring an assassin for a bodyguard! You know what assassins are like!"

"So do you. That is why this job is yours." 

"But. . . fine."

The aged Russian smiled as he watched his obedient soldier shrug his dark jacket and shirt off. "It's good you accepted, Soldier."

"Not like I had a choice," James grumbled, peeling the photostatic veil off his arm. "Sir," he added in a mocking tone. 

Vasily Karpov was not a man to be trifled with and for a long time, James did fear Karpov's wrath. Once he learned of his own importance to Karpov, James developed an attitude no other would be allowed to to show to Karpov. Still, he didn't push often. As important as he was, there were gaps in his memory that made him wonder what his punishment had been. Having spent no less than a minute being as rude as he liked, James took the uniform silently and held still as the mask was fixed to his head. 

"Do not disappoint, Soldier. The longer you spend around that civilian, the worse you will get at your job . . . and you know what happens to soldiers that do not perform well. Do not make me use the triggers on you."

"Yes, sir," James said firmly, taking the gun from Karpov.

* * *

"I'm sorry, could you please repeat that?" 

"You are assigned to Howard Stark. Am I right in assuming you do know who he is?" 

"Right, but you don't want me to take him out?"

"Ms Romanova, we will give you twice your usual payment to complete this mission." 

"I'm sorry, I don't understand why I've been assigned this mission. I'm an assassin. I don't look after people, I kill them." 

"Howard Stark believes himself to be a target. We believe he is a target to Hydra." 

"Hydra . . . they'd most likely sent the Winter Soldier after him . . . that's why you're assigning me to protect Stark, aren't you? I'm the only one who's gone up against the soldier and survived."

"You understand the severity of your mission, then, Romanova? This is no side job, no small assassination you're paid for on the black market. This is your test, your proof of your versatility. Proof that the Red Room breeds perfection, not mere killers. Do not fail us, Natalia." 

Natalia shuddered. Hearing her first name fall from the lips of Vladimira Barkova -- a woman all students, Natalia included, referred to as Madame B -- always sent shivers up her spine. Madame B never meant it with warmth or care. Using a Red Room student's first name was Madame B's method of letting them know she expected nothing less than perfect. 

Natalia was hesitant. How could she protect someone when she had been raised to do the opposite? Why did Madame B want to protect Howard Stark anyway? What did he have that they needed? Still, all her uncertainties meant naught. 

"Will I need to be within a certain distance from him at all times?" 

"Not always," Madame B said, shaking her head. "You will report to his home every morning and remain where you can see him until he returns to his home. Distance is of no consequence, though I don't see how you can protect him if you're not near enough. You will be given access and control over the security at the manor. Though his wife and son are not part of this arrangement and may come and go as they please, if their security ensures Howard Stark's security, then their security is your responsibility. If he wants to leave the manor at midnight, you will be awake and alert to escort him wherever he wishes to go. The manner with which you approach this task is up to you. But fail, and you will become a lesson." 

Natalia nodded. "Understood, Madame."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guess what I'm baaaaack
> 
> Please enjoy, do leave a comment or kudo. Remember: keyboard smashes are 100% acceptable!!


	2. Chapter 2

Natalia and James stood outside the apartment door, key in hand, staring at each other. 

"It's one forty-five," Natalia eventually said.

"Couldn't sleep," James lied, "went out for a walk and a drink." 

Natalia peered at him, squinting. "You don't look like you had a drink." She sniffed the air. "Don't smell like it either." 

James smiled and leaned down to her height. "Soda, Natalia, I went out to get soda. You know, the convenience store a few blocks away from here?" 

"Uh . . . I, uh. . ."

"Got you one while I was there," James said, handing her a can. He thanked his instincts he'd thought about the fact that he would not make it back before her and thought to solidify an alibi.

"I'm sorry," Natalia sighed as James opened the door. "I didn't mean to accuse you, I just . . . work is stressful and it really doesn't help that I've got to be at someone else's beck and call for who knows how long." 

"It's all right," James said, ushering Natalia in. 

They sat at the table and finished their cold dinner, talking about mundane and trifle things, before splitting in the hallway to their own rooms. Neither could sleep, thinking about the job they would begin preparing for once the sun rose.

* * *

"Pancakes?" James offered when Natalia stumbled into the kitchen, yawning. 

"Oh, yes please," she said, eyes brightening as she struggled to pull her hands from the gown pockets. She shuffled over to the stove and pulled one off the plate next to James.

"From now on, you handle grocery runs and I'll handle the cooking, okay? I don't think I can take another shitty dish." 

Natalia rolled her eyes. "Fine, but only because you're right. And I'm only not fighting you 'cause you deserve some rights after I almost killed you last week." 

"I need that plate," James called as Natalia left with the pancakes.

"Take a new one," she yelled as she disappeared back into her room. When she returned with four pancakes, James was sitting at the table with a laptop open and an empty plate beside him. "I left some for you," she said, swapping their plates, "big project?" 

"Hm?" 

"I saw layouts," Natalia said as she washed off the plate. She studied the ceramic disc as she spoke. "Building layouts. You an architect or what?" 

"No, I uh . . . I wanna build a dream house one day. I wanna be able to build it as big as I like, as expensive as I like, with whatever furniture I like. When I'm not busy with something or the other, I like to just . . . design. Dream, if you will."

"Oh. So, what do you do, then?"

Before she came back to the table, James closed down the building plans for the Stark manor. "Uh, I'm a freelancer." 

"Oh?" 

"Yeah. I, uh, work for this extermination company." James nodded. He had not prepared for this, despite knowing the question would crop up sooner or later. "They call, I go. You know how it is." 

Natalia scoffed as she returned to pick up her bag and car keys. "Oh, yeah. I know. Listen, this new job I've got, it's ridiculous hours. I have no idea what time I'll be back, but I do promise to stock up the bar fridge." 

James nodded. "No problem. If you're late, I'll put your dinner away for you." 

"Thank you!" Natalia called as she hobbled to the front door, trying to walk and get her shoes on at the same time. "Don't ruin the apartment while I'm gone," she warned before closing the door. 

Once she was gone, James pulled up the building plans again and continued planning his infiltration.

* * *

Natalia spent approximately ten minutes getting her false credentials verified before she was finally allowed to input her biometrics to the system and then meet Howard Stark. As she stared at her ID, her thoughts strayed to her meeting with Madame B earlier that morning. 

_"What's my cover again?"_

_"You've been in our service for four years and you have never once failed a client. You're the best and that is why we have assigned you to Mr Stark. Did you get all that?"_

_"I did, Madame, but I meant my name, my look. . ."_

_"You will go as you are, Romanova. There is no point in hiding. This job may take years. Would you be able to hold a facade daily for that long?"_

_"Years?!"_

_"Until we get from Stark whatever it is Hydra wants, he is under your protection and is your responsibility. No matter how long it takes."_

_"I . . . yes, Madame."_

_"You will wear your graduate uniform if required. You work for a company called Royale Rouge Security, or R2S, and it has been known to provide security to several monarchies and some celebrities. Make it as grandeur as you like, but do not forget to check in and update us so our agents can ensure a solid ruse. Understood?"_

_"Yes, Madame."_

_"Then get to work, Agent."_

Natalia dropped her ID into her bag and threw the landyard security had given her over her head. She straightened her jacket and walked on, searching for Howard. She eventually found an indoor boxing ring, two people sparring with one another, both so heavily padded, Natalia could not make either out. Seated on one of the two chairs and watching was an elderly woman Natalia recognised from the data the Red Room kept on her. 

"Ms Carter?" 

Peggy Carter, in all her grey glory, stood up and smiled. "Yes?" 

"I'm Natalia Romanova, from Royale Rouge Security. I've been assigned to Mr Stark." 

"Right. Have a seat, dear, I'll have him fetched," she said as she walked up to the ring. "Anthony!"

The young boy stopped beating his butler up and pulled off his mask and helmet. "What now, Aunt Peg?"

"I need you to stop sparring with Mr Jarvis for a moment. Your father's new employee has arrived." 

Edwin Jarvis was delighted to be freed and happily peeled off his protection, springing out of the ring. He barely offered Natalia a greeting before leaving, almost forgetting his shoes. 

Anthony stared at Natalia. "What’s your name, lady?"

"Anthony!" Peggy scolded, her expression aghast. 

"Romanova," Natalia said, offering Peggy a small smile and a subtle wave away, "Natalia Romanova." 

"Russian?"

"Used to be."

"Huh. Front and centre. Come into the church."

"No," Peggy said, "you’re seriously not gonna ask--"

"If it pleases the court," Anthony cut in. He noticed Natalia slipping out of her heels. "Which it does."

"It’s no problem," Natalia told Peggy. 

"I’m sorry. He’s rather immature sometimes."

Natalia watched Anthony carefully as she hopped over into the ring. She knew the facts. He was seventeen. MIT. Best friend was a James Rhodes, also MIT. She knew he loved Peggy Carter first and Maria Stark second. She didn't know if he loved Howard Stark. The Red Room's records didn't go far into personalities and emotional backgrounds. 

"You ever boxed before?" 

"Of course. I have extensive training, but I'm quite fond of your particular style. Mr Jarvis would certainly not approve." 

Anthony grinned up at her. "Really? Dirty boxing?" 

"Mhm?"

He scoffed. "I don't believe you." 

"How you spell your name, Ms Romanova?" Peggy called from her chair. 

Natalia knew Peggy was searching her up. She also knew the Red Room agents assigned to this case would handle it. "Romanova, R-O-M-A-N-O-V-A."

"Thank you." 

Natalia kept her gaze on Peggy as the woman scrolled through her job listings as a Royale Rouge agent. She knew Peggy would try to hack as many systems as she could, but she knew Peggy had a limit. The woman was brilliant, but she was a war strategist, not a tech genius. Natalia had full faith that her agents would be able to keep Peggy out. 

Anthony was not impressed and decided to show off. "Rule number one, never take your eye off your opponent." 

He moved to attack Natalia and without even looking away from Peggy, Natalia caught Anthony's arm and threw him over before pinning him down by his arm. 

"Oh my God, Anthony!" Peggy cried, standing up quickly.

Natalia released Anthony, whose eyes were sparkling. "Can you teach me how to do that?" 

"Do what?"

"What you just did," Anthony said, wildly gesturing to Natalia.

"That was instinct, Anthony. It's a skill. It takes years to master it." 

"How long did it take you?" 

"Two, three years. Maybe." 

"Can you teach me, then? As long as you're here, working for my father, can you teach me what you know?" 

Natalia studied the excited teenager, the bright look in his eyes, the raw delight on his face. Who knew how long she'd even be there for? "I suppose it can't hurt to teach you some self defence." 

"Yes!" 

Peggy watched as Anthony jumped out of the ring and sprinted away. Natalie slid under and out of the ring. "You're not really going to teach him self defence, are you?" 

"Why not?"

"I . . . er, fair enough. Cone with me, Mr Jarvis has sent Mr Stark to a boardroom to meet with you." 

Natalia quickly slipped her heels back in and straightened her suit. "Presentable?" she asked Peggy, running her fingers through her hair.

"Mm, hold still." Peggy pulled a few pins from her hair and pulled back the sides of Natalia's straightened locks, twisting them into a small, meat bun that she pinned in place. "Right. Let's go." 

Natalia tried very hard to quell the warmth she was receiving from Anthony, Peggy and even briefly, Edwin Jarvis.

* * *

"Look, Mr Stark, I understand that you believe you need the entire military watching over you, but it's obvious the United States government cannot provide that. I'm very good at my job, Mr Stark, and I can assure you that your security is of higher importance than my own." 

Howard Stark leaned back in his chair and studied Natalia. "They couldn't send someone . . . scarier." 

Natalia smiled. "Trust me, Mr Stark, nothing is scarier than a woman who can kill someone with a crayon." 

Howard frowned. "How do I know I can trust your credibility?" 

"Well, I've prepared a report, but you can ask Ms Carter to list off my records for the last two years if you'd prefer." 

Peggy sat up alert when Natalia casually gestured in her direction. Howard turned to the woman sitting across his new bodyguard. "Peg?" 

"Uh. . ."

"Anything to say?"

"Uh, well, Ms Romanova is credited with over seventeen prevented assassinations in the last two years, of which eight have been monarchs, two have been presidents, four were minor celebrities, two major celebrities, and one paranoid civilian. Her training includes mixed martial arts, several forms of pure martial arts, stealth and surveillance, marksmanship, as well as undocumented and unofficial street fighting. She is undoubtedly Royale Rouge Security's best agent and more than qualified for this job." 

Natalia slid the report to the stunned Howard and watched as he checked Peggy's statements against it. 

"How did you know?" Peggy asked, curious. 

"You asked me to spell my name, Ms Carter. Deduction."

Peggy shrugged and leaned back, satisfied. She leaned forward again. "How did you know I only went back two years?"

"Given the length of my record and the time between spelling my name and leaving the room, you can't have scrolled very far. If you did, you would not have caught everything. It was an educated guess." 

Peggy nodded and leaned back again. "Well, I do believe Howard is safest in your hands, Ms Romanova." 

Natalia know this was the perfect opportunity to ask why Howard needed her protection, why they believed someone was after Howard. She knew she should ask. But she could not. If she did, Madame B would change her task, order her to get the item with no regard for anyone else. 

Natalia did not frown, but she wanted to. Why should she want to prolong not knowing? Why should she want to be in the company of these people any longer than necessary? 

Why was she latching on to Howard's admiring gaze, Jarvis's polite smiles, Peggy's approving nods, Anthony's amazed stares? 

Why?


	3. Chapter 3

James needed to plan everything perfectly. He had no idea where to begin, though. He'd spotted Howard a few times. His bodyguard had been close behind, always watching from behind large sunglasses and a hoodie. James wondered if that was done to be inconspicuous or if it was done to he so blatantly obvious, he should have glazed over it. Either way, it didn't work and James picked out the bodyguard near Howard instantly. 

How was he supposed to make an attack on Howard when the man only went to public places and was driven around with his bodyguard in the car every time? 

"James?" 

"What?" 

Natalia sat up straight, startled. "Are you okay?" 

James looked up from his mutilated steak. "What?" he asked again, softer. 

"I'm not being rude or anything, but the food usually has a bit more . . . kick. That, and you're usually very picky about presentation. I'm not complaining! I'm just . . . concerned." 

James shook his head. "It . . . it's work. That's all." 

"I thought you were an exterminator. Don't you just, like, point and shoot with that hose-pipe looking thing?"

James's mind wandered his rifle. Hose-pipe looking thing. He laughed. 

"James, are you sure you're okay?" Natalia reached over the table to feel his forehead for a fever. 

He smiled. "I'm fine. And the extermination thing was a part-time job."

"Was?" Natalia asked, sitting back. "What happened?" 

"Oh, I quit. I almost exterminated myself way too many times. I'm an assassin now." 

He had no idea why he'd said that, but thankfully, Natalia took it as a joke. After all, which assassin would actually reveal that? Certainly not her. 

"Very funny, James. But seriously, you seem tired. Maybe we should order something tomorrow? You can sleep in tomorrow morning as well, I know how to not poison myself." 

Poison! James felt like an idea had hit him over the head so hard, he would fall out of his chair any moment. 

Howard always visited the same café for a morning coffee. If James found grab a job there, he would have access to Howard's coffee. The idea was brilliant! 

"James."

"Huh?" 

"I know a psychologist on our floor. Do you want his number? He takes walk-ins at home on Saturdays. He's really good." 

James smiled. "I'm fine, Natalia. I promise."

* * *

The next morning, Natalia had left already, taping a note to her door. She knew it was the first thing James saw when he left his room.

_Gone to work. Attempted waffles and instant porridge. Shitty iced coffee in the fridge. Good luck._   
_Nat_

He was amused at her signing the note despite the fact that it could not have been written by anyone else. Having woken up in a good mood, James didn't even notice that she'd forgotten the sugar in the porridge and burnt the waffles, and that calling the drink a shitty iced coffee was an understatement.

He dressed well, making sure his titanium prosthetic was disguised properly, before locking up the apartment and leaving. He knew Hydra had an eye on him as soon as he was out in the open, but he knew they'd merely write his good mood off as a front to fit in with civilians. Hydra wasn't very big on having emotions. Ever. 

They'd even sent an agent to the same apartment block. James had asked why he couldn't dump his weapons with the agent instead. He was told not to question orders. 

Then they asked him why he picked an apartment that had someone else living in it. It had taken ever five of strength not to get sarcastic. Instead, he took two deel breaths and reminded Karpov that no one paid him money ever and the little bit they'd given him to survive meant that he had to get a cheap apartment. Nothing was cheaper than the small little space whose rent was split over two people. 

He'd gotten a little snappy and said that if they wanted him away from civilians, they should pay for a better apartment. Hydra did not want to waste resources and so they reminded Karpov to keep James in check, periodically remind him that he was nothing more than a weapon. 

Having now spent four consecutive weeks in the presence of other humans, James was ready to give Hydra the finger, but he also knew that when this was over, they would provide a bed and sustenance, however menial. If he left, he'd spend the rest of his life running and hiding. At least this way, he could be out in public and claim he was just appearing natural to strangers. 

Hydra lapped up his lies with no questions. After all, why wouldn't you believe what you're told when you're sure you've trained your pets well?

Whistling, James waltzed into the café right behind Howard and his bodyguard. He waited to see what Howard ordered and who made the drink. 

"Your usual, Mr Stark?" the barista asked, offering the billionaire a smile. 

"Uh, yes, Milo." 

"You know I'm going to have to supervise, Milo." 

The calm voice pierced James's brain and he froze. He stared at the counter. 

"Yes, yes, of course. I remember. Come on through."

"Thank you, darling." 

James stared in growing horror as the woman walked behind the counter and spoke softly and casually to Milo as the young boy fixed a drink for Howard. James could tell that she stood at an angle to both watch Milo and keep an eye on Milo. 

He knew Howard Stark somehow managed to hire an assassin without even knowing it, but how the hell did Howard Stark get dumped in the hands of the Black Widow? 

James would know that voice anywhere. He had no idea how long ago it had been, but he knew he'd already failed against her once.

* * *

_The Winter Soldier saw her, sprinting across rooftops as he ran in the street. The woman was after his target. He pushed faster, racing her now. If she got to the target first, the Red Room will have gained a prisoner with knowledge both organisations needed. He knew he had to get there first._

_When he made it to the 'safe house', she was leaving with the target. Spitting violent curses, he jumped through the window she'd broken._

_The Black Widow had the target protected deep within bundles of materials and stuffed into a sidecar of a cheap bike she'd stolen just for this. He swung through the beams of the weak building and perched on the roof. He took aim and fired._

_He never missed. He knew that._

_So when the shot missed her heart and caught her hip, he knew she had dodged the bullet._

_And he knew she was a force to be reckoned with._

_She radioed in to the chip Hydra had placed on the scientists. "How kind of you to bundle him all up like that for me, it really made kidnapping him off your hands a lot easier." She laughed as though she weren't in danger of bleeding out. "Thank you, darling!"_

* * *

James suddenly realised Howard and his bodyguard had left. There was no way he would be able to slip even an extra spoon of sugar into Howard's coffee. Not with her on watch. Oh, how he hated that voice. 

So light, so airy. So damn superior. He hated it. He hated that he could still hear her laughter. He felt like she was mocking him with that laugh. Mocking him for missing. But he knew that he had aimed right. She was the one skilled enough to dodge. 

He loathed the Black Widow.

* * *

"Again, Anthony." 

Anthony lay on the floor of the boxing ring, frustrated. "I'm never gonna get it!" 

"Well, if you never get up, obviously." 

"You are such an adult. Old lady." 

"Hey, I'm only five years older than you, mister." 

Anthony mocked her under his breath. Natalia nudged his arm with her foot. "Get up, Anthony," she said, "and if you're so convinced I'm that much older than you, I expect you to start treating me with a little more respect. Your choice."

"So, what? My choices are switching you between best friend mode or aunt mode?" 

Natalia shrugged. "The words came out of your mouth." 

Anthony sighed as he sat up. He stretched an arm out for Natalia to grab. Barely straining, she pulled him up. 

"What did you say your nickname was?"

"Tallie." 

"Okay. Considering that you are an old lady--"

"I'm twenty-two, Anthony, I'm not--" 

"-- I'm gonna start calling you Aunt Tal." 

"Good lord," Peggy said as she walked in, "if Tallie is an old lady, I dread to think what I am." 

"Ancient," Anthony responded instantly.

"Anthony!" Natalia scolded. She grinned when Anthony looked at her in pure surprise. "You chose aunt mode." 

Peggy laughed. "Oh, very nice. I've got a teammate!" 

Natalia laughed softly as she exited the ring. "What are you here for, Peggy? Does Howard want to go somewhere?" 

"No, actually. He's staying in tonight. I understand that you're meant to always keep tabs on Howard, but am I right in assuming you are allowed to do what you like once you leave the manor?" 

Wiping her forehead with a towel, Natalia nodded. "Yeah, why?" 

"Well, he can't leave the manor unless you're present, and we know he's safe in here. So this essentially means you're off the hook now?"

"Yeah," Natalia said slowly, waiting to see where this went.

"Well, we were wondering, that is, Ana and I, if you'd like to come with us dancing tonight. There's a little bar we frequent on weekends. Mr Jarvis often accompanies us, merely to escort us back once we've drunk enough to intoxicate several people. I know you're several years younger than both Ana and I, but--" 

"I'd love to," Natalia said, smiling. She didn't tell Peggy that this would be her first time going out with friends. "I think it would be fun. It's about time I got to know Ana properly, anyway." 

"Really?" Peggy asked, delighted. "You'll join us?"

"Absolutely!" 

"Splendid! You can wear something of Ana's, unless you'd like to go home to change?"

Natalia thought about the apartment, a good eight minute drive away. "I'll wear something of Ana's. Are you sure she won't mind?" 

"Mind? She's making a new friend. She's going to be thrilled!" 

Excited, Peggy grabbed Natalia's hand and dragged her through the manor, through the courtyard and into the Jarvis household that stood comfortably on the other side of the property. 

Anthony stared up at the ceiling. "Wow," he murmured to himself. 

* * *

Natalia laughed so hard she snorted. Embarrassed, she tried to hide her face. Peggy was so amused with Natalia, she almost fell off her chair. Ana Jarvis watched the pair with slight amusement. "You think I'm joking, but Edwin never lies about his tales with Howard." 

"Unbelievable!" Peggy cried. "There's no way Howard sat on a whoopee cushion four times in one hour."

Ana shrugged. "Peg, you know Anthony. He always gets his way. Besides, Edwin helped him." 

Natalia took a sip of her drink. "Is there footage of this?" 

Ana shook her head. "Howard had it deleted."

"I'm sure I can recover it," Natalia said. "How long ago was this?" 

"Hmm, I think about two or three nights ago? Edwin says it was long after you'd both left."

"Oh, I would love to see it," Peggy said, "do call me if you get it right." 

"Of course."

The three of then fell silent, each trying to picture Howard's face every time he sat down on one of the damned things.

"Tallie," Ana said after a while. 

"Hm?"

"Peg and I aren't young any longer, but you still are." 

"Yeah, so?" 

"I'll give you five dollars if you go over there and say hi to the tall one at the bar." 

Peggy glanced over her shoulder. "I'll give you an extra five if you come back with his number." 

Natalia's jaw dropped. "What? No! That's silly!" 

"Another five if you get him to dance with you," Ana cut in, scowling at Peggy. 

"Wait! This is--" 

"Total twenty if you ask him on a date," Peggy said, shooting Ana a smirk. 

The two elderly women held each others stare for a moment before simultaneously pushing Natalia off her chair and in the direction of the bar. Resisting the urge to flip them both off, Natalia straightened Ana's blood red dress and walked with her head held high. She could manipulate some random guy into one date, right?

She glanced back to her table and gestured to a blond man ordering a drink. Both Peggy and Ana shook their heads fiercely and motioned for her to move on. There was only one more person at the bar if she continued in that direction, so she assumed they must mean the lone brunet. 

Cautiously, she took a seat next to him and prepared her opening lines. 

"Work end early?" 

Natalia frowned. "James? What -- are you okay?" 

James shrugged and lifted his head from his hand. "Bad day. You?" 

Natalia shrugged. "Okay day. Good evening. I'm out with friends. I should've called--"

"No," James said, waving her apologies aside, "you don't have to. I don't need to know your every move. Anyway, if you didn't recognise me, why'd you come sit down?"

Natalia smiled. "Well, my friends are being super childish and if you agree to go on a date with me, I'll split the twenty dollars I'll be getting with you." 

James thought about it. "Ten bucks for a date? Sounds fun, let's do it." 

Natalia passed him her phone. "Act like you're giving me your number." 

"You're having fun, aren't you?"

"Totally. I was worried about getting an idiot attached to me, but this is so much better. Imagine the lies I could tell. You'd back them up, obviously, right?" 

"Every one. I'll be extra convincing if more money is involved," he added, grinning as he passed Natalia her phone back. 

"Very funny, James. Listen, if you're not feeling great, I can come home with you . . . that sounded bad, given the charade I've just started. You know what I mean."

"I know, Natalia, and I promise you I'm fine. You enjoy yourself. I'll be fine."

"Okay," Natalia eventually said, sliding off the bar stool. "Take care of yourself, James." 

Peggy and Ana were stunned and refused to give Natalia the full twenty dollars until she actually went on her date, claiming that she never actually danced with the handsome stranger.


	4. Chapter 4

"What time do you get off work today?" James asked as he flipped a pancake. 

"Not a damn clue," Natalia grumbled, snatching the pancake out of the air without even looking. 

James stared at her as she left, munching angrily and dragging her feet back to her room to get dressed. She probably didn't even notice she'd done that.

"Then when are we going out?" James called. 

"I'll make time! I'll try to get off around five-ish!"

James nodded to himself and began planning how he was going to explain the date to Karpov. In her room, Natalia was pacing hurriedly, wondering how she was going to explain the date to Madame B. 

Simultaneously, they decided they would continue using their it's-part-of-my-cover excuse. 

Once that was decided, Natalia got ready for the day and sped out of the apartment, throwing a rushed "Bye, James!" as she sprinted through. 

He couldn't help the amused smile that crossed his lips as he heard the door swing shut.

* * *

Around four in the afternoon, Natalia found herself crossing the courtyard with Peggy. Peggy pounded on the Jarvises front door. "Ana! Ana, open up!" 

"What?!" Ana yelled, almost pulling the door off its hinges. 

Peggy pushed Natalia in. "Tallie needs to use your facilities. Howard said he would stay in so she can go out." 

"Oh! Okay, well, you remember where everything is, right?"

"Yep." 

"Well, go on!" Peggy cried, shooing Natalia further into the house. 

"Where's Aunt Tal going?" 

The two women turned to the front door. "On a date," they said. 

"Aunt Tal has a boyfriend?" Anthony asked, eyebrows lifting.

"She's about to have one," Peggy said, grinning.

"And twenty dollars," Ana huffed. 

"Twenty dollars? For what?" 

"We bet Tallie when we went to the bar last night," Ana said, "said we'd give her twenty dollars if she went on a date with this guy." 

"Just some random guy you saw in the bar? Isn't that . . . dangerous?" 

Peggy laughed. "For Tallie? Nothing is ever dangerous! She could kill a man without even touching him."

Anthony frowned. "If you say so."

"Ana!" Natalia shrieked. 

"What?!"

"I broke the straightener! Oh, wait, nevermind. I never plugged it in." 

Peggy glanced at Ana. Ana raised her eyebrows. Peggy nodded. "I'll go keep her alive," Ana said, jogging towards her bedroom. 

"Aunt Tal's really going on a date?" 

Peggy nodded to Anthony. "Yes. Why?" 

Anthony shrugged. "She doesn't seem like the type to want to date."

"Between you and me, dear, I think she's in this for the money." 

Anthony grinned. "Can we stalk her? On her date? It's only right that we should make sure she has a good time." 

"Who's we?" Peggy scoffed. "I've got work and Ana's going out with Mr Jarvis tonight. You've got an assignment due next week, mister." 

Anthony walked further inside. "I'm calling Rhodes. Can I use your phone, Aunt Ana?"

"You are not stalking Tallie on her date, Anthony Edward Stark!" Peggy cried as Ana called an affirmative from her room.

Anthony laughed, despite Peggy pulling out the full-name card on him. He disappeared into the dining room, where Ana kept her telephone, and dialled the number to his best friend's house.

"Rhodes," he said when the call picked up, "any chance you're free tonight? We're going to stalk my aunt on her first date."

* * *

Natalia thanked Jarvis for giving her a ride and waved him off before turning and heading into the restaurant. Smoothing down the polka dot dress she'd found stashed in the back of her closet, Natalia took a deep breath and walked in. 

This was just so she and James could make an easy ten dollars each off sweet old ladies, right? She'd done worse for less before! So what about James made this so terrifying? 

After a minute or less of searching, she found him sitting at a table and making faces at a plate of chips. 

"Did they say something nasty to you?"

"They're disgusting," James said flatly. He looked up. "Red's your colour," he added, nodding in approval.

"Thanks. Can I taste your disgusting chips?"

James pushed the plate towards her. "You can have my disgusting chips. I'm going to order the extra cheesy pizza. You want to share that or get something of your own?" 

"You know I'm broke, right? That's the whole reason we're doing this. Ten bucks each." 

"Right. Sharing it is." 

Natalia shook her head. "We should've just gone home for dinner and told them we went dancing."

"I'm pretty sure that doesn't happen on the first date," James muttered.

"James!"

He wasn't even fazed by the yell. "How are you eating that?" 

"I'm hungry, James." 

"Okay, that's fair. So, since we're out on a date, why don't you tell me something about you? What's your favourite colour?" 

"I don't have one," Natalia admitted, realising it for the first time. "You?"

James shook his head, having realised the same as soon as he asked the question.

Both found themselves caught up in the fact that their past left no room for enjoyment, no room for personal things. They were weapons, and they were always reminded of it.

* * *

"So, are you really Russian or is your family Russian?" 

Natalia pursed her lips as she formulated her response. "I'm Russian. Kind of. I mean, I've got citizenship, so I _am_ American, but I didn't get here til I was around sixteen or seventeen."

James frowned. "Why'd you leave? Did you come with your family?"

Natalia shrugged, rubbing her arms. "They disappeared when I was six. I don't know if they died or. . ."

"I'm sorry, Natalia," James said softly. He knew he had no experience in comforting other people, but this felt so natural to him that he couldn't do anything but stop walking and wrap his arms around her, tucking her head under his chin.

"What about you?" Natalia blurted, surprised by the hug. 

"Gone," James murmured, "I know they loved me, but I can't remember it. It's like -- it's like I don't miss them, even though I know I should."

"Life sucks sometimes, huh?" 

James glanced down at her red locks. "Not always," he whispered, leaning his head against hers and closing his eyes. 

As Natalia smiled and tightened her arms around James, she pushed away all thoughts of the Red Room and all its problems.

Both were fairly certain their handlers would have some words to say about the matter, but in that moment, neither cared. 

"TONY!" 

Natalia looked out into the street at the shout that came from the other side. She noticed the boy who was yelling into the street. He looked slightly familiar. Her gaze moved into the street. 

"ANTHONY!" 

Breaking away from James, Natalia ran into traffic without hesitation. She grabbed Anthony's wrist and pulled him into the last lane seconds before both got knocked by a car. 

Yelling in mixed languages, Natalia gave Anthony a hard shove, trusting James to grab him, before turning to pick up Anthony's brick-like cell phone and her purse. 

James stared at the teenager he held. Anthony was clearly drunk, more than most. He looked up and into the street at the sound of loud honking. 

"Nat--!"

The sound of the collision nearly stopped his heart. It startled Anthony, enough to sober him up enough that he could stand up again. Rhodes pushed through the quickly forming crowd to get to Anthony while James shoved people aside and knelt down beside Natalia. 

Someone called an ambulance.

"Nat-- Natalia? Can you hear me? Natalia?" 

She groaned and rolled her head away from the headlights of the car behind the one that had hit her. James felt as if a building had been lifted off him. She was, for the most part, okay. He didn't dare pick her up or move her, just in case she'd broken something, so he sat there and held on to the hand that closed around his. 

By the time the ambulance arrived, Anthony had sobered enough to comprehend what was going on. 

"I'm coming with! She's my aunt!" 

The paramedic looked at James, who had already claimed to be Natalia's boyfriend. James glanced at Anthony. He nodded to the paramedic. 

"I'll meet you there," Rhodes said, "call me and let me know, okay?" 

Anthony nodded and accepted James's hand into the back of the ambulance. Neither said a word to each other, not until they were left in the waiting room. 

"It's my fault. If I hadn't been out there in the street, she wouldn't have been there to get me." 

James wasn't sure what the right response was. His own head was still reeling from his own reaction to Natalia getting hit. So he chose a logical path. "Shouldn't you call you parents?"

Anthony scoffed. "Like it'll matter. But yeah, I should call home." 

"Got a phone?" James asked, holding out a few coins and gesturing to the payphone in the lobby. Now why was he being kind to the kid?

"No, it's fine. I've got mine. She managed to pick it off the street." Anthony waved James away and stood up. He paced the waiting room as he held his phone to his ear. 

"Aunt Peg? It's Anthony. Uh, Aunt Tal got into an accident. She-- okay. Oh, listen! Don't bring my father." 

Anthony lowered his arm and stared at the wall. He dropped his head and sighed. 

"It's not your fault, you know," James said.

"It feels like it is." 

"I know." 

Anthony shuffled over and sat down next to James. When a frazzled Peggy stumbled into the waiting room, Jarvis, Ana and Maria hot on her heels, Anthony was asleep with his head in James's lap, while James slept sitting in the chair.

* * *

It was agony. The pain spread from somewhere on her right. She wasn't sure exactly where. 

"Romanova!" Madame B yelled, "hold still!" 

Natalia could not keep completely still. She writhed on the rickety bed as a doctor and several nurses worked to remove the bullet without further injuries. 

"The scientist," she rasped, "is he alive?" 

"No, Natalia." 

Natalia shied away from the hand on her head. Madame B never used her students' first names. Madame B was not a mother. Madame B did not mean anything good when she offered comfort or spoke in a motherly tone. Given that she was held down by the nurses and still had a gaping bullet wound in her side, Natalia could not run from whatever punishment she was bound to receive. 

Madame B placed her hand on Natalia's head again. Natalia squeezed her eyes shut, awaiting the worst. When Madame B made no movement aside from the small circles she made on Natalia's forehead with her thumb, the recent graduate stilled. Her attention off her wound, the doctor found it much easier to begin stitches. 

"We didn't know he was active," Madame B said softly. "We thought it would be a simple extraction. You performed brilliantly, Natalia." 

"Who was he?" Natalia forced herself to say, keeping her eyes shut. 

"They call him the Winter Soldier. He is Hydra. He is . . . he is the best. A ghost story, Natalia. He has a hundred percent accuracy and is successful in one hundred percent of his missions." Madam B paused. Her thumb halted briefly before continuing the small circles. "Until tonight." 

"What. . ." Natalia stammered for a moment, unsure what her question was. She opened her eyes and watched Madame B.

"What does this mean?" 

Natalia nodded.

"Well, Natalia, it means you've passed." 

A frown scrunched up Natalia's face. "I've already graduated." 

"No. You've completed your training. Graduated our programme. This means you've passed any test we could set for you."

"But . . . the scientist, he--"

"Your task was to obtain his research and thereafter dispose of him. You have delivered and come within an inch of your life in doing so. Natalia, you must understand the feat you have accomplished. No target has ever escaped the Winter Soldier. Ever. He was bred to perfection. The Red Room has lost a good number of incredible agents against him. Never have we sent a graduate against him. Never has one of ours come back from going up against him. You are the first person in history to survive the Winter Soldier. You are perfect." 

Natalia lay still, distantly aware of the needle piercing her skin. Her mind buzzed with the words she heard. Still dazed by the blood loss, Natalia could not properly comprehend everything.

"You will be our face, Natalia. _You will be the Black Widow_."


	5. Chapter 5

Natalia jolted awake, inhaling deeply. The action sent a sharp pain through her right side. She twisted and shifted in the bed, unaware of her surroundings and slightly afraid. 

"Easy, Natalia."

The voice calmed her down instantly. The hand on her shoulder sent ripples of serenity through her body. 

"That's it. Slowly. Breathe slowly. Easy. Open your eyes slowly." 

She did as he said and flinched at the bright lights in the private ward Anthony had arranged for her, but she adjusted quickly enough. "Anthony," she croaked, "where is he?" 

"He's all right," James said, "a little tired and still in shock, but he's all right. Lay still, you've got a fractured rib." 

Once she had accepted the fact that she lay in a hospital, safe from the Red Room, Natalia calmed down. She turned her gaze from the ceiling to James. "What happened?"

"You ran out into the street, Natalia. What were you thinking?" 

"Anthony was . . . he could have gotten hit." 

Both were struggling to understand the concept of saving someone else at the expense of their own safety, risking everything even though they weren't ordered to, protecting someone just because it felt like the right thing to do. 

"And you could've died." James struggled to understand why that bothered him.

"I had to," Natalia said, even though logically, she knew she was under no obligation to have to do anything for Anthony. Yes, if something happened to the teen, Howard would react somewhat negatively, but Anthony did not secure Howard's safety. Anthony's life played no part in Natalia's mission. 

The door opened. "James? You up?" It was Ana. "Pegs wants to speak to you outside. I'll sit with -- Tallie! Oh, goodness, you had us so worried!" 

James smiled. "I'll leave you in Ana's capable hands," he told Natalia. Both only realised he'd been holding on to her hand when he let go and left. Leaving Ana to scold Natalia, James closed the door slowly behind him, waiting for the soft click before turning towards the waiting room. 

When he walked in, Peggy halted her conversation with Anthony. She stared at James for a second. "Anthony, would you be a dear and get Aunt Peg a cup of tea from the café downstairs?" 

Her eyes never left James, not as she handed Anthony a few notes, nor as he rolled his eyes and pocketed the money he would undoubtedly return, nor as Anthony left.

Once Anthony was gone, Peggy stood up and walked to the door behind James. She closed it just as slow as she'd walked. "I don't bite, Se-- James." 

"Ana said you wanted to speak to me." 

"Yes. I wanted to ask you some questions. You resemble someone I once knew and . . . I'd like to get some clarification." 

James nodded hesitantly as Peggy came to stand in front of him. He could've counted the slight wrinkles at the corners of her eyes, or the number of gray hairs in her bangs. 

"Does the name Steve Rogers mean anything to you?" 

James shrugged. "He was Captain America. Died in a plane that crashed into ice. Never found." 

"Nothing else?" 

"Ms Carter, I don't see the point to all this. I'm barely twenty-five. What else could the man mean to me?" 

_So much_ , Peggy wanted to say, _he meant so much to you_. Instead, she smiled. "I believe you're right, Sergeant Barnes." The rank slipped from her lips without warning.

"Sorry?" 

Peggy shook her head quickly. "He was a . . . friend of mine. We went out for drinks once, talked about what Steve was like before the army. We were -- we were close. He treated me like he did his sisters." 

"What happened to him?" James asked, curious. 

"He fell. During a mission. He fell from a moving train. We searched for him. But we had no idea where he fell, where he would've landed. All I wanted by the end was a body to bury. Some sense of twisted closure for his parents and his sisters, for Steve. We never found him. I thought-- I hoped you were him but I see now that it's ridiculous." Peggy smiled. "If you were him, you'd look a lot more like me than the man I remember." 

"I . . . I'm sorry, Ms Carter." 

"Please, call me Peggy. Ana and I are friends of Tallie's."

"Tallie," James murmured, remembering the day he met Natalia. 

_Natalia, but no one ever calls me Natalia._

So was he really the only one who called her Natalia? Did that make it . . . special? Why didn't she stop him, demand he call her by her chosen nickname? Did she -- oh, dear, did she like him calling her Natalia? Now what could that mean? Did she even notice that he only ever called her Natalia? 

His head began to spin with all the questions. 

"Do you know her well?"

"Hm?"

"Tallie. Do you know her well? You told the paramedics you're her boyfriend." 

James debated between the real truth, the truth Peggy knew, and a complete lie. Inevitably, his habits got in the way and some kind of mixture spilled from his lips. "Oh. Yeah. She told me about the bet in the bar. You don't have to give her the twenty dollars, by the way. She's messing with you."

"So you are her boyfriend?"

"Yes." 

"Oh." 

"Mhm. We live together too." James could not stop talking. He had no idea how to stop. "We were actually thinking about getting a pet." _Shut up!_ "Maybe a cat. But she's always working. So dedicated." _Shut! Up!_ "It's one of the many things I love about her."

"They didn't have tea, Aunt Peg, so I got you a coffee. Taste it and let me know." 

James was thrilled to see Anthony. "Hey, kid! Uh, since you're back, I'm gonna leave Peggy here with you and go save Ana from my girlfriend."

As he fled the waiting room, James slammed the palm of his hand into his forehead several times. He could've just said her name! There was no need to call her his girlfriend!

"We have a problem," James blurted as soon as Ana closed the door. 

"What? Is it--"

"I told your friend Peggy that I'm your boyfriend, that we live together, that we've been thinking about getting a cat, that you're very dedicated to work and that it's one of the things I love about you."

"You did what?!" With some difficulty, Natalia sat up. She stared, jaw-dropped, at James for a moment before shrugging. "At least they weren't all lies." 

James nodded in agreement, but he found himself questioning which one of them were lies. 

* * *

Natalia was, despite the fracture James knew she had, cleared to leave the next night. James had spent the last twenty four hours in the hospital, sneaking in outside of visiting hours, going as far as climbing the emergency escape staircase and tumbling through the window. 

Natalia was amused most of the time.

Howard didn't care much that he was confined to his home for the day. 

By six thirty, James helped Natalia from the hospital wheelchair into Jarvis's car. He sat in the back with Natalia, leaving Anthony to sit in the front with Jarvis. The drive was quiet, mostly because James had worn hinself out persistently trying to get into Natalia's room and Natalia herself was still on medication. They bid Anthony and Jarvis a good night and slowly climbed the steps to their apartment. 

"We should add a zero," James murmured, staring at the door as Natalia shoved her key in.

"Why?" 

"So I can call our apartment the highest of them all." 

Natalia paused with the door halfway open. "Sometimes I wish I wasn't so broke my landlord gave me a flatmate." 

"You love having me around," James said, rolling his eyes as he walked in behind her and closed the door. "Off to bed?" 

"Mhm. Got an early day tomorrow." 

James frowned. "You're not going to work, are you?" 

Natalia paused just before the hallways. "I have to. I'm being paid to show up and do my job." 

"But your frac--!"

"The doctor said there's no sign of any fracture, James. I'm fine. I just need a good night's sleep."

James stood in the middle of the apartment with his mouth hanging open as Natalia went into her room and closed the door. "You're absolutely ridiculous!" James yelled, walking to the kitchen to get something to drink.

"Certified insane!" he yelled, throwing the fridge door shut. 

"A hundred percent moron!" He slammed a glass down on the counter, thankful it didn't break.

"Reckless!" he yelled as he poured water into the glass. 

"Irresponsible!" He threw the fridge door shut again.

"A danger to yourself!" He pounded on her bedroom door.

Before he could throw something else out of his mouth, Natalia pulled her door open sharply. "What?" she yelled, glaring up at him.

James thrust the glass at her. "Take your medicines!"

Confused and stunned, Natalia took the glass. Frowning, James turned around and marched into his own room, slamming the door behind him. It was much later, after a cool shower and a few minutes of silence, that he remembered he'd opened the fridge to get something for himself to drink.

* * *

Howard was surprised, to say the least, to see Natalia. It was much later than he was used to her arriving, but he wasn't even expecting to see her at all. He'd tried to convince her to go home, but she wouldn't budge. Eventually he had no choice but to accept that Natalia would be hovering within the vicinity. When he finally accepted it, he decided to go out and get his coffee.

James was waiting in the café. He wanted to scrutinize her movements, see if he could spot a weakness. Once he knew where she flawed, he would know where his window was. And once he knew where his window was, he would get into the café and make his move. 

He would have done the deed days ago had it not been for the damned Black Widow. 

He'd begun to think Howard wouldn't show up when the man entered and walked over to his table without so much as a greeting.

"Good morning, Milo," she said in that light voice James simply loathed, walking past Howard. "The usual, please." 

"Hang on, let me get the latch for you." 

James could hear the smile in her voice when she stepped back and said, "Thank you, darling." 

"Thank you, darling," James mocked under his breath, folding his arms and glaring at the window on his left. He missed her turning halfway, recognising him and almost tripping through the opening behind the counter. 

Her sunglasses slipped off her face. James stood halfway. Would he finally get a glimpse of her face? Match a face to the identity he wanted to crush? She ducked behind the counter to pick them up, hurriedly jamming them back on her face. 

He knew she'd seen him. She stared right at him, he knew she was looking at him behind those ridiculously large things. He hated that he couldn't figure her out. 

It never occurred to him that he should've been just another stranger to her, that he should not have any consequence to her, and that she should have no reason to settle her gaze on him. He was too caught up in their last interaction.

The sound of the bullet leaving his gun, the sounds of her bike in the distance, her laugh over the radio. _Thank you, darling._

James felt as if he'd been snapped from a trance when she turned away to watch Milo and Howard. How captivating she was . . . and he couldn't even see her face properly. 

He noticed her hiss slightly, casually moving her hand to her side. So she was injured, then. How delightful. An injury meant she would not be fully focused on her task. James decided, he would get the job as soon as she left and by the next morning, he would be making Howard's coffee. 

He just had to time everything perfectly.


	6. Chapter 6

Days passed. Neither progressed in their mission. Days became weeks, which in turn became months. Neither wanted to leave the life they'd built, the false identity they'd created, the home they'd found. 

Neither pressed too hard on the other. Both were afraid of shattering their rose-coloured lenses. So it was only natural that neither caught wind of the other. Neither wanted it to be there, and so both were blind to it.

As confusing as it was, Natalia's accident that night shifted their perspective. They wanted that fairytale most people got. They wanted that sense of family, love, care, happiness and everyhting else that most people could afford to enjoy. They wanted it so desperately. So when, one day, out of the blue, James asked Natalia on a real date with no bets involved, she agreed. With everything going so well, something had to give in soon. 

And give in it did, on the first Christmas day of the new decade. 

A week before, Natalia woke up to the suffocating scent of cookies and coffee. 

"James!" she wailed, stumbling from her room to the bathroom. "You're making me sick!" 

"I didn't make anything!" James cried. "Your friends sent this stuff for you!"

With the slightly annoying smell of strawberry scented toothpaste filling the air around her, Natalia was able to take a deep breath without wanting to throw up. It wasn't that she hated sweets, it was just so unnatural for her to be crowded by so much of it. In the past, the lead up to Christmas had been just like any time of the year for her, except there were massive sales everywhere. 

She hadn't expected anything different this year and, though she still debated the pleasantness of it, she was proven wrong. 

Bracing herself for the onslaught, Natalia opened the bathroom door and dragged herself down the hallway. Halfway there, mischief crept into her bones and she glided on silent footsteps. She crept up behind James at the stove, waiting for him to let go of anything dangerous before scaring him.

"Good morning, Natalia," James murmured, walking away from the stove to the cabinets above the fridge.

"This is ridiculous! How can you always tell?" 

James smiled as he handed Natalia a bottle of wine. "I just can," he said, kissing her cheek. 

"Hey, asshole, I brushed my teeth."

"Oh, really?" James asked, turning his back on Natalia. "Well, I have breakfast on the stove that's gonna burn if I don't pay it enough attention." 

"Okay, and I'm gonna set something on fire if you don't pay me enough attention." 

"I gave you wine. What more do you want?" 

Natalia put the bottle on the counter and reached around James to turn the stove off. She almost burned herself pulling the pan from the hot plate to a cool one. 

"Natalia--"

"Now love me," she demanded, hands on her hips and a frown on her face as she stood between James and the stove.

"At least let me eat first." 

"No. Love me first." 

"Fine. How much do you want me to love you?" 

Natalia smiled and placed her hands in James's outstretched ones. "Completely," she said as he tugged on her arms and pulled her close.

James returned her smile as he kissed her. "You taste like strawberries." 

"Mm, it's your rancid toothpaste."

"Rancid?" James murmured against her shoulder. 

"Absolutely disgusting." 

"Worse than the cookies?" James asked, reaching behind him for the container Jarvis had dropped off earlier. 

Natalia slapped his hand away from the container, pulling away to glare at him. "We're taking this elsewhere, James, because you can't control yourself." 

"Let me have one cookie!" James whined, half-heartedly straining for the the table as Natalia pulled him away. 

"You can stink like a bakery after you love me. Get into the Christmas spirit, darling, give a girl some attention."

"There's a week before Christmas, doll. And you're keeping me from my sugar," James complained. 

"A, shut up. B, I am your sugar." 

James stopped walking and wrapped his arms around her. He gave her a kiss right on the tip of her nose. "No, you're bitter." 

"Asshole!" 

"You want me to love you?" 

"Yes!" 

James swept her off the off the floor with ease, balancing most of her weight on his prosthetic. "I always love you, doll," he murmured, kissing her lips, nose, cheeks, forhead as he walked.

Natalia smiled, thrilled with the attention she was receiving. She laughed softly when James dropped a kiss underneath her jaw, next to her ear. 

Unceremoniously, James dropped her on the sofa. She started to complain, shutting herself up as soon as James leaned over her. 

"How much do you want me to love you?" 

"Completely." 

And all was going well until they rolled off sofa that was too small to sit on normally. "James! I said 'love me', not 'throw me to the ground'! What's wrong with you?" 

James, despite the dull pain spreading from his right wrist up his arm, smirked. "You like it rough, though." 

Natalia narrowed her eyes at the man hovering over her. "Get off me, asshole." 

"I thought you wanted me to love you," James said as she wiggled out from under him and stood up.

"Yeah, before work. I'm gonna be late." 

James's jaw dropped. "It's Christmas week! You still have to go in so early?"

Natalia smiled thinly as she walked to her room. "Some of us don't get the luxuries of the festive season, James." 

"Yeah, okay, fine," James said as he stood up. He followed her down the hallway and leaned against the wall outside her door. "I have to work today too. Half-day only so that's great." 

"Maybe you can come visit me at work," Natalia called, "I've been working there long enough to bring in guests, I think."

"Really? You're going to finally tell me where you work?" 

In her room, Natalia's hands froze in her hair. How long had it been since they'd become flatmates and she still had not told James where she went every day? How long had it been since that night in the street and she still had not told James who Anthony was and how she knew him?

With a jolt, Natalia realised that had it not come up in conversation, she would have never told him. Were her habits really so bad? 

It couldn't be. James was the same, she realised, as she remembered that she had no idea where he worked. 

Pulling the hairband tight, Natalia opened the door with a smile. "Or maybe I'll stalk you and meet you at work."

"Call me, okay?" 

"Yes, darling," she said, almost tiredly. He knew she was teasing. She always teased. She lifted herself on tiptoes and kissed his cheek. "I'll call you."

* * *

Attempting to evade his window for as long as possible, James made sure his shift never co-incided with Milo's, with Howard's visits. If he succeeded in his mission, Hydra would pull him out and he would go back to something he could never call home, something he could only call a dungeon.

But today, the café would only be open for half the day, and instead of having half the employees work the week before Christmas, it was decided weeks ago that the employees would work a quarter shift every day. 

That meant James and Milo's shifts would coincide for roughly five minutes. At the five minute mark, Howard came in for his coffee. James pulled off his apron quickly and slipped out from behind the counter. Despite the fact that the Black Widow would never know he was the Winter Soldier, James did not want to be seen by her. 

But he did want to stalk her. So he snagged a booth in the corner and sneered as she said those three annoying words to Milo. James dragged his gaze from the assassin to her charge. His gaze settled on Howard's companion.

The young man looked familiar. James struggled to place him. James had seen him recently. But where?

He racked his brains and frowned until it hit him. 

Two nights ago, he and Natalia had gone out for a dinner with her friends. The boy and his mother had tagged along. The café became a hazy background as James began to connect the dots.

He knew the boy's name was Anthony. His mother's name was Maria. Could it be? The coincidence was far too great, but what else. . .? Who else would be the famed Peggy Carter's oldest friend but Howard Stark? And the other woman, Ana, she was the butler's wife. Edwin Jarvis. 

He should've seen it before! But how did Natalia know them? 

James's gaze moved from father and son that did not acknowledge each other, to the woman behind the counter. 

She laughed at Milo's daily joke. James usually mocked it and her laugh, but as she threw her head back and the sound reached his ears, he couldn't help likening her to the woman who'd sprinted down the hallway outside their apartment less than an hour ago. 

No. 

It couldn't be.

Could it? 

She picked up the cup from Milo. "You poor darling, working so hard so close to Christmas." 

"It's all right," Milo replied with a smile. 

James could not see the Widow's face, but he could hear her smile. "I'll be sure to bring Howard here tomorrow as well. Howard! Don't forget to tip Milo." 

"There's really no need!" Milo said hastily as Anthony took the money from Howard and leaned over the counter with it.

"Nonsense, darling," the Widow said, shoving the money in Milo's shirt pocket. A tennis bracelet caught the light and James's attention. "If you won't take the tip, consider it a Christmas present from Stark Manor. You can't refuse, I'll keep bringing it the whole week."

James almost smiled. Natalia did not own a tennis bracelet. He was certain of that. It was a small world, perhaps it really was just coincidence after all.

* * *

"Is this really the first time you're celebrating?" Peggy asked. 

James nodded.

"Both of you?" Ana asked.

Natalia nodded. 

"But . . . but why?" Maria blurted.

"Well, James doesn't really remember much of his childhood and I, well, you know I grew up in a stinking orphanage. Celebrations weren't really commonplace." Natalia shrugged. "Can't miss something you never had, right?" 

As she said it, James and her smiles turned bitter. Once their mission was over, they would go back to their life. They would have something to miss. The knowledge only strengthened their resolve. Natalia would keep avoiding opportunities to ask why Howard needed a bodyguard. James would keep missing any possible windows. 

Anthony cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Water, Anthony?" Natalia asked, moving to get up. 

"No, I'm fine, Aunt Tal." 

"Sure?" 

"Yeah." 

Natalia shrugged before leaning back again. James sighed as her warmth seeped into his own body. Her hung his arm around her, careful not to drop the full weight of his prosthetic on her. 

"I just --" Anthony shifted slightly, frowning for a second. "I just wanna officially welcome Aunt Tal to the family. You've been in and out of my house for months now and we're in here celebrating Christmas with you -- and it's not even Christmas yet. So, this means you're officially family now." 

Natalia laughed. The laugh was light, full of amusement and adoration. It was airy, soft as tinkling bells. She gave Anthony a warm smile. "Thank you, darling." 

James's heart stopped. His breath caught. His gaze froze. 

No. No, it wasn't -- it was a coincidence. It had to be!

"Don't looked at me like that, Uncle Jamie, you're family too!" 

"Don't mind him," Natalia said casually, not bothering to look at James. She turned to the only blonde in the room. "And you didn't have to get me anything, Maria. It must've been expensive." 

"Nonsense," Maria said, waving her hand, "Howard ought to pay for it, seeing as he won't even join us. It's like Anthony said, you're family now. I'd have given it to you on Christmas but you caught me hiding around with it and we all know I can't lie for anything. I got Peggy and Ana one each the Christmas after we grew close too." 

Smiling, Ana and Peggy held out their arms, showing Natalia their bracelets.

"Ana doesn't even celebrate and she's accepted it," Peggy said. She gave Natalia a teasing smile. "Don't _offend_ Maria!"

"Oh, hush, Peggy, dear. Look, I've got one too," Maria added, pulling at her sleeve to show Natalia the thin tennis bracelet. 

James felt uncomfortably nauseous. No, it wasn't possible. There was no way his Natalia was the wretched Black Widow. It couldn't be. He would not believe it. He could not believe it. His Natalia was not the Black Widow. How could his love and his enemy be one and the same? 

Could fate be that cruel?

The answer, James decided when he saw Natalia's wrist join the others as they admired their bracelets, beautiful and dainty tennis bracelets wrapping around their wrists, was yes. 

Fate could be _very_ cruel.


	7. Chapter 7

"You are stalling, Soldier. You've grown too close to the civilian. You must eliminate her. If you do not remove her from the equation, we will take action."

"She is my key to Stark Manor," James blurted. "She works close with the inhabitants of Stark Manor. She will get me inside. Patience, Karpov, you will get what's coming your way."

Karpov wagged a finger at James. "Do not get snappy with me, Soldier. There are others who can carry out this mission. You were chosen for stealth. But if it takes this long, we will have to reconsider."

James set his jaw and narrowed his eyes. He almost growled. He would have to stay on the mission if he wanted to protect Natalia.

Protect Natalia?! Is that what he had become? From hating the Black Widow to wanting to protect her? All because of the side she portrayed to civilians. Absurd, to say the least. 

"You will cause chaos, Karpov. You said you preferred if it looked like an accident. You must leave it to me if you wish it to be a silent affair. You will have to keep a safe distance from the civilian if you don't want me to take even longer."

"Well then," Karpov said, "you'd best get on your way. You don't want Josef to cause a scene, do you?" 

James did growl this time as he snatched the gun from beside Karpov and left, not bothering with his mask. He would be punished for it, but that was another problem for another time.

* * *

Natalia yanked the hat off and dropped the sunglasses in the bowl of the hat.

"Why do you wear that?" Anthony asked as he watched her pull pins from her hair and let her curls free. 

"What? The hat and glasses?" Anthony nodded. "R2S believes that the man after your father is a very powerful and skilled assassin. If he ever finds out who your father's bodyguard is, I'm done for. It's simple, but quite effective."

"Oh, so then, I probably shouldn't call you 'Aunt Tal' when we're out with my father, huh?" 

Natalia smiled. "Probably."

"But won't this assassin guy figure it out if he sees you with us and in the manor?" 

"It's unlikely that he would. I've actually genuinely made friends with Peggy, Ana and your mother -- and Jarvis. It's not unusual for someone to want to spend time with her friends. Even if I stayed longer to watch you father and not sit with your mother and aunts, excuses are plenty." 

Anthony nodded as he followed behind Natalia. "Will you teach me the leg lock you were talking to Aunt Peg about?" 

"What leg lock, Anthony?"

"You know, the one with the --" Anthony waved his hands around, unable to explain what he meant "-- the one you told Aunt Peg about. You know what I mean!"

Natalia laughed. "That's not for self-defence, Anthony. That, if done correctly and with enough strength, could kill someone easily." 

Anthony's eyes lit up.

"No, I am not neaching it to you. I will consider teaching you how to flip people over even if they're twice your size, though. Tomorrow, maybe." 

"Yes!" 

Natalia smiled as Anthony skipped a step, pumping his fist into the air and scrunching up his face in delight. Shaking her head slightly, she opened the door to Howard's study. She wanted to let him know she would be across the courtyard, should he want to go out before she really left for the night. 

It was brief, but through the window, she caught the glint of moonlight on metal. 

"Get down!"

* * *

James sprinted through the trees. Free of the photostatic veil, his prosthetic caught and reflected the light brilliantly. He knew she would see it. She wasn't the Black Widow for nothing. If the Red Room made her their face even after she failed to bring in the scientist alive, she had to be the best. She would notice him. 

He found Josef immediately and he attacked the man just as he fired. He could only hope he'd thrown the shot far enough. 

"She's mine," he said, low and soft, glaring at Josef with burning fury in his eyes. "She is mine alone. You kill her, I kill you, understand?" 

Josef scoffed. "The great Winter Soldier, attached to a bodyguard." 

An animal growled at Josef, hissing and bearing fangs he didn't have. "I don't expect you to understand, but I have missed exactly one target in all my time with Hydra and it has been to her." James pointed with his prosthetic to the manor in the distance. "I could have killed her years ago. I should have killed her years ago. She is the only person to ever survive and I will not let you or anyone else have her. She is mine to kill."

Josef's eyebrows lifted ever so slightly, but he knew James had noticed. "The Black Widow? She's the bodyguard? It's really her?" 

Stiffly, James nodded. "Pack up and get lost. If I see you near my target again, I'll bury your own bullet in your skull. Stay away from Stark and stay away from the Widow." 

"You don't tell me what to do, Soldier." 

"Do you really want to be the Hydra pet that threw the Winter Soldier off balance? Because I know how not to take my own fall. Listen carefully, Josef, she -- is -- mine -- and I won't let you get away with bringing her down. Now back -- _off_."

Josef smirked. "If I didn't know any better, Soldier, I'd think you have some ulterior motives. Let me warn you, when you return to Hydra empty handed, my face will be the first that you see once Karpov is done with you. Then we will see how you've handled the Widow." 

James hissed as Josef picked up his sniper and left, annoying smirk plastered to his face. James knew Natalia and he knew the Black Widow. He knew, had he not thrown Josef's shot far enough, she would not let anyone know she'd been shot. She would go straight home. James had to get there before her. 

* * *

"Aunt Tal!"

Natalia hissed and squeezed her eyes shut. "It's just a flesh wound," she lied, trying to control her breathing. 

Peggy almost knocked the door down as she stumbled in, quickly followed by Maria and Ana. They'd been waiting three rooms over for Natalia -- they would head over to Ana's house together -- when they heard the shout, the soft bang, and Anthony. 

"What happened?" Jarvis asked, having just arrived too.

"Aunt Tal got shot!" 

"I'm fine, just a flesh wound."

"Anthony," Ana said, holding her arm out, "come with me, dear." 

"Where's the bullet?" Peggy asked. 

"What?" 

"The bullet. You said it's a flesh wound. Where's the bullet, then?" 

Natalia hesitated.

"See?!" Anthony cried, "Aunt Tal got shot!" 

Peggy took charge of the situation as she walked over to Natalia and grabbed her uninjured arm. "Ana, take Anthony to your house. He'll sleep there tonight. Maria, get the phone. Jarvis, ready the car --"

"No," Natalia said, "no doctors."

"What. . . No, you need to--" 

"I can't go to the hospital again," Natalia said, clutching Peggy's hand tight. She stared into Peggy's eyes, silently pleading. "I can't," she whispered. 

Jarvis hesitated in the doorway. 

Peggy's eyes never left Natalia as she spoke in a level voice. "Howard, please stay behind your desk. Mr Jarvis, please go to the pharmacy near my home and get me painkillers, gauze, medical thread, needles, and a morphine drip. When the woman behind the counter asks you what ails you, tell her you wish to see Dr Armum." 

"Doctor Ar--what?"

"Maria, I need towels. As many as you can get. Lay them out on the bed in the spare room. Howard, you're going to stay low and in front of Tallie and I. Once you're out the door, don't go into any of the rooms whose windows face the property boundary. Stay near the kitchens, the living room, the dining hall. Does everyone understand?" 

"Yes, ma'am." 

"Tallie, walk with me. Slowly, dear."

As they left the room slowly, Peggy called out to Howard to tell Ana to call Natalia's apartment and let James know. 

"Now tell me," Peggy said when they were alone, slowly walking down the hallway, "why?" 

"I work for a very . . . underhand organisation. We can be guardians or we can be killers. It's really up to the task we're given. Captain America was an inspiration to a lot of people, even around the world. Some people were inspired in a very . . . wrong way."

Peggy stopped walking. "What's in your blood, Tallie?" 

Natalia did not stop walking. "Something that shouldn't be. Something that will be found in a hospital." 

"They'd do blood tests," Peggy said, catching on as she fell into step beside Natalia, "you'd be found out. Rouge Royale . . . operates on the wrong side of the law." 

Natalia did not correct Peggy, telling her she was a Red Room agent. She knew from records that Peggy was all too familiar with the Red Room. "We're very versatile. Like I said, we can be guardians or we can be killers. Some of us can be both." 

"Are you -- have you --?"

"Yes. But I can't let myself be known. If word gets out that there's someone with traces of a warped serum in their blood, the Winter Soldier would sniff me out and snuff me out."

"The Winter Soldier?" 

"A ghost story. He's a master assassin, better than almost anyone I've ever known. He's hunting me down like prey, all because I've survived him. If he ever finds me, I don't know if I'll live."

"But you've been to the hospital before."

Natalia shrugged. "I have no real records. They'll never find me. I'll be a Jane Doe in their system forever."

Peggy didn't push further. "Come on, let's get you fixed up. Don't worry, I've done this before."

* * *

James held the phone carefully with his prosthetic and twisted the cord around his other hand. First, Natalia still had not come and now he found himself on the phone with Ana?

"Jamie, is that you?" 

"Yes." He had to pretend like he had no idea. "What happened? You sound terrified." 

"Tallie -- it -- you know she works with us?" 

"Yeah." 

"Well, Tallie's Mr Stark's bodyguard and . . . and someone tried to kill him today. Tallie, she . . . she -- I'll send Edwin to get you."

James nearly crushed the phone. In focusing on controlling the strength of his prosthetic, James forced himself to think rationally. "Okay. Okay, I'll wait for him. Which hospital are you taking her to?"

Ana hesitated. "Edwin will bring you to Tallie," she said before ending the call. 

James took a deep breath, carefully putting the phone down. As he did, he caught sight if his arm. The photostatic veil. He could not be seen without it. His arm was an identifying factor to Natalia. She could not know who he was. It wouldn't end well. 

Why? Why did it matter to him? Why did she matter to him? She was the Widow. He'd been after her for years. He'd dreamt of finally finding her, of finally making that shot. 

He dreamt vividly of her for years. Standing on a deserted street, gun to her head. She was helpless. She had nowhere to go. She could either stand there and take the shot, or run and die fleeing. He knew the Red Room. He knew they didn't raise cowards. She would stand defiant and dare him to fire. He would fire and the Black Widow would be no more. 

But last night, he had dreamt once more of killing the Widow. But it wasn't her veiled face he saw, it wasn't her bright emerald eyes filled with defiance and rage. It wasn't wisps of red strands escaping her hood.

No, last night he had seen Natalia. She had stood firm, head held high. Her mouth had been set in a firm line. Wind whipped her curls around. She knew what was coming. Her eyes didn't shine with mischief. They didn't smile at him the way they always did. They shone with unshed tears for a story ended too soon. They stared into his own, filled with sadness and despair. She could not run. She would not run. She knew what was coming.

James had woken in a cold sweat to the sound of his gun firing, which he later learned was Natalia dropping her shampoo bottle in the shower. His heart had threatened to burt from his chest. James could never remember his pulse being so high or his hair so matted and stuck to his scalp, or his breathing so heavy. 

Clearly, it had been a nightmare.

It was all he could do not to tear the apartment apart while he waited for Jarvis to arrive. 


	8. Chapter 8

He was there. He was right there. 

Howard Stark stood right in front of him and he did nothing. Of course, Howard didn't see him. He merely brushed by, distracted by something or the other. It was Anthony who let James in. While they waited outside the door Peggy had locked, Anthony talked. It helped keep him distracted. 

James didn't mind. Anthony's ramblings kept his mind from wandering. He listened to Anthony, nodding along and dropping the right responses when necessary. Anthony didn't notice. 

When Peggy finally opened the door, she regarded them both in silence for at least half a minute. "She's resting. Don't be loud, don't ask too many questions, don't pressurize her, let her sleep if she's nodding off. Oh, and try not to move her, especially her left arm." 

James opened his mouth and found he had no questions.

"I know I'm old, dear, but I've earned my PhD. I know what I'm doing." 

James closed his mouth and nodded. 

As he walked in, closely followed by Anthony, Peggy wondered why he never asked why Natalia wasn't taken to a hospital. A matter for another day, she decided as she left, heading to fill the others in on Natalia's condition.

Anthony stood at the foot of the bed while James sat down on the chair Peggy had pulled forward. 

"How are you feeling, doll?" 

Natalia grumbled. "Dizzy. Sleepy. I hate it." 

James smiled. "You'll get better. You'll be missing this when the pain sets in." 

Anthony glanced at the drip Peggy had set up. Thankfully, Natalia had not needed a blood transfusion, so the morphine drip hung alone. 

"Are you okay, Aunt Tal?"

"I'm fine, darling," Natalia said, smiling at Anthony, "I told you."

"You said it was a flesh wound. You were going to leave with a bullet lodged in your shoulder. You -- you could have bled out in some street and we wouldn't know until it was too late." 

James was absolutely horrified. Realisation struck him that their apartment was not all that near to Stark Manor. Anthony was right. Natalia would have probably bled out before she reached the apartment. He stared at her. "Are you insane?" he asked softly.

Natalia, who had no idea James was fully aware of the night's events, gave him a small smile. "Just a little, darling." 

For so long, she had been calling him 'darling'. For so long, she had been calling several people the same. How had it taken him this long to match her voice to the Widow's? Why hadn't he noticed before? Was it because he didn't want to? Had he purposely turned a blind eye to every indication that Natalia was Howard's bodyguard and the Black Widow? 

Why?

* * *

On Peggy's orders, Natalia did not leave the manor. She was allowed to get up and move around, but only for short periods at a time. Peggy almost always hovered around Natalia, forbidding her from taking the stairs alone, knocking on the bathroom door when Natalia had been silent in there for too long, making sure Natalia ate and slept properly. This went on for roughly a week before Natalia could not take it any longer.

"Next time I get shot, I'm going straight home," she declared during dinner with the Jarvises one night.

"Why don't you try not getting shot again?" Jarvis suggested. 

"Edwin!" Ana scolded lightly. 

James, who had grown used to often not having a left arm, found it perfectly easy to keep that arm around Natalia and still eat perfectly fine. She didn't mind that, though, often leaning into James. 

"Howard should go on a holiday," James blurted, "spontaneously. Just up and go. The assassin would likely be unable to follow immediately and would focus on getting to Howard. Makes the manor safe and keeps Howard and Natalia away from him." 

Natalia scoffed. "That's ridiculous, James. I'm not going anywhere. Besides, that man would follow me to the ends of the earth." 

While James agreed, he understood her statement in a very different light to the one she meant it in. 

"Why are you so sure?" Jarvis asked.

Natalia stabbed a chicken cube with the fork. "Four years ago, I was escorting a scientist from a kidnapping. I was covering the scientist, so he shot him, straight through me. I survived. I'm a mistake, a flaw in his perfection. His mission was the scientist but I got in the way. I made myself his target. He won't stop until he hits every target." 

James noticed how carefully she worded the tale, but he couldn't help wondering, did she really believe he had been aiming for the scientist? Did she not believe that she was skilled enough to avoid him? Did she believe that hitting her was an accident, when missing her was the mistake? 

Did she not think herself capable of evading him?

"You'll survive," James told her. He kissed her forehead. "I won't let him hurt you." 

And he meant it, with every cell in his body. He would not let the Winter Soldier harm Natalia.

* * *

On Christmas eve, the women of Stark Manor managed to take both James and Natalia's minds off the assassination attempt on Howard. The spent the day in the Jarvises living room with Anthony and even Rhodes, exchanging gifts and delving into Ana and Maria's baking spree. 

The pair left only because Anthony had gotten them tickets to see Pretty Woman at a cinema Howard practically owned. James had admitted some time ago that had he known Natalia that early in the year, he would have taken her to see it. With help from his mother and aunts, Anthony organised a second showing of the movie -- just for them. 

Even if they wanted to, they couldn't say no. If it were not for Anthony's gift, they would have probably spent the night over. 

James, who could not remember ever going to a cinema, was amazed at it all. Natalia found his ramblings amusing and smiled as they walked back to their apartment. She listened intently, periodically glancing between him and the sidewalk. 

She really loved him. 

As they walked, she considered telling him the truth. The real truth about why she knew the Winter Soldier would never stop. The truth about why she was Howard's bodyguard. The truth about the organisation that sent her. What would he say? Would it bother him too much? Was her honesty worth risking what she had with him? She was so distracted by her internal debate, she failed to notice the shadow creeping closer. 

James noticed at the last second and roughly shoved Natalia away from him. She was surprised and confused at first, then she saw the figure in all black attack James, backing him up into an alley. 

"James!" 

"Stay there!" 

Natalia frowned. He knew half the truth. He knew she was a bodyguard. He knew she could take a hit -- several, in fact. He knew she was capable. Why did he want her to be the one to stay away when she was the one who should be doing the protecting?

Screw it, Natalia decided, scrambling from the sidewalk and following into the alley. 

James pulled back with his prosthetic and let it fly forward. It would have probably killed the attacker. Backing him up against the wall, James tucked his arm under his chin and pressed hard. "I told you to stay away from her," he growled. 

"You have your orders, Soldier," Josef hissed, "follow them." 

James pressed harder with his arm. "And what are yours?"

"The Widow. Do not be blinded by her. You are the Winter Soldier. You have your mission. Stick to it. I will take care of the Widow." 

James released Josef, only to land a blow to his face. "I warned you to stay away from her. If I don't kill you, I'll let her. Make of that what you will." 

"You've grown soft, Soldier," Josef snarled from the floor. "Soft with that civilian."

Natalia found them in time to witnessed Josef flick a blade out and attack James. She growled and despite Peggy's numerous warnings to be wary of her stitches, Natalia leapt into the fight, launching herself onto Josef and pulling him backwards. With Natalia pulling Josef down from the top, James dropped low and knocked the man's legs from under him. 

The three hit the ground with three thuds. Natalia grabbed his arm and locked her legs around his neck, putting everything she had into it. James got up with an unearthly speed and went for the knife. Despite being strangled, Josef was aware enough and slashed wildly at James. 

James wasn't worried about himself. He was more concerned with the fact that Josef might decided to bury the blade in Natalia's leg. 

"Nat, let him go." 

"What?" 

"You're going to hurt yourself. Let go." 

"James--!"

James threw himself at Josef. The blade almost missed Natalia's calf, slashing through her jeans. James buried it in Josef's shoulder. 

"Let go, doll. Please." 

Natalia let go, but not because James asked her. She told herself she'd taken more hits than she should have in her state. She told herself it was her mind playing tricks on her. He told herself, as she tried to stop the blood from her shoulder, that there was no way it could be possible. She told herself, as she saw the glint of metal through a slash in James's sleeve, that he was not the Winter Soldier.

Natalia passed out.

James knocked the knife from Josef's hand and wrapped his arms around Josef's neck, metal to his skin. 

"If she dies tonight," he murmured, staring at Natalia, "I'll kill you with the same blade." 

And then he pulled tighter until Josef passed out. There was a high chance Josef would have figured Natalia out and spread word to Hydra, but James wasn't bothered. He'd protect her when the time came.

Now, though, James was exhausted. He was hurt and tired and dizzy. But he knew he needed to get Natalia home. The manor was too far and neither had a cell phone on them. He was sure he'd lost his money somewhere with Josef and Natalia hadn't carried any, so he could not use the payphone. 

Their apartment was half a block away, he realised. 

It was likely that Natalia would throw a fit when she woke up, but he wasn't bothered as he grabbed her -- fairly new -- shawl and pulled it apart as evenly as he could. He used one half to bind the gash on her calf and the other on her shoulder. It would have to do until he got to their apartment. 

Gently as he could, he picked her up, balancing her head on his shoulder and carrying most of her weight on the prosthetic. Natalia murmured something, adjusting to find comfort. James smiled. So she wasn't completely unconscious. 

He shrugged off the odd stares he received from other tenants as she made his way up to apartment forty-two. 

He left Natalia in her room and went to his, digging under the bed for the first aid kit he'd slowly assembled on his own. 

It never occurred to him that if he called Peggy, she would be there in seconds. 

James could see Natalia was still out and would probably be so for quite a while. He shrugged his jacket off and peeled the damaged photostatic veil off his arm. He couldn't work with it half hanging off his arm, getting in the way.

He hoped Peggy wouldn't ask why her stitches looked a little strange.

Natalia wasn't sure what was going on. She felt light, unnaturally so. She just wanted to sleep. But something poked and prodded her, keeping her on the brink of waking and sleeping. When it all stopped, she relaxed and stilled. Unfortunately, she couldn't slip into sleep and she was beginning to feel pain. 

"Hey, easy, Natalia. I got you some painkillers. They're gonna knock you out, though."

She sighed as she felt James's arms around her, lifting her up. Eyes still closed, she accepted the pills and water he fed her.

"James." 

"Sleep, Natalia. You're hurt." 

"But you . . . you fought -- who was he?" 

"No one, Natalia. No one important." 

She leaned into his hand when he cupped her cheek. It was cold. She was used to the feel of his prosthetic and this wasn't it. She shivered as her cheek came into contact with icy metal. She refused to open her eyes. If she did, she would have to face the truth. If she never opened her eyes, James would never be the Winter Soldier to her. 

Never.


	9. Chapter 9

Natalia couldn't sleep. Eventually, quite a while after she heard James close his bedroom door, she allowed herself to open her eyes. Her attention was quickly snatched by the glass of cold water on her nightstand, beside two pills and a note.

_Doll,_

_You ripped the stitches Peggy gave you in your shoulder and have a relatively small cut on your leg. Take these if you can't sleep because of the pain. They should knock you out till late morning. If you're asleep, I'll call Maria and let her know you won't be in till late._

Natalia wanted to take the two pills, not because the pain had begun to set, but because that was the only way she knew how to prolong the inevitable. 

The sun rose achingly slow. For the first time in almost eight months, Natalia got up to make herself breakfast. She sat with her bowl of cereal at the table, alone for the first time in almost eight months. She ate in silence. She began her morning routine slowly, having not spent the better part of her morning being tickled, kissed, teased, playfully battled with, or anything else James had been doing with her. She was ready before seven for the first time since she and James had begun dating. 

She could not help it. She had to know. She didn't know how long she stood in front of his door for, but eventually, she opened it silently. The first thing she noticed was that he had clearly been too exhausted to tidy up before he went to sleep. The room looked identical to her own eight months ago. 

Weapons lay all over. Unused bullets lay strewn on the floor beside guns that were yet to be loaded. A sniper lay near the window. Several knives were over the dressing table. A pocket knife sat on the nightstand, beside a cell phone twice its size. James lay on his bed, half dressed, one shoe on. Hanging off the side of his bed was something nauseatingly flesh-like, though it shimmered and fizzled like a hologram. 

Natalia's gaze moved from the veil to the arm over it. She stood in the doorway and waited for her own mind to accept the truth. She dragged her gaze further, across the scars decorating his back, to the spiderweb-like welts converging at his shoulder. 

His shoulder, that was so evidently made of metal. The titanium fused with his skin in a display that was equal parts horrifying and interesting. Natalia caught herself wondering how the prosthetic worked, having seen it in action in more ways than one. That train of thought halted abruptly when she remembered who wore the prosthetic. Her gaze raked over the fuse line between skin and metal. She wanted to look away. No wound she had been faced with in all her life looked so painful. The skin was still red, so many years later. The wound looked fresh, as if pulling on the prosthetic would rip it from his shoulder. 

She inched closer in her curiosity until she knelt on his left. He faced her, cheek pushed up by the rumpled duvet. Her hand reached out, brushing his hair out of his eyes. Her fingers ran lightly over his cheek. She brushed her thumb over his lips. 

Those same lips that had kissed her so many times in so many places on her body and told her daily that he loved her.

Those same lips that had warned her he would one day hold a gun to her head and she would not move. 

She drew her hand back. 

Curiosity took hold of her again and her fingers danced on the arm. She wondered if he could feel it. Did the prosthetic come with artificial neurons? 

When he shifted in his sleep slightly, she snatched her hand away. 

"Nat. . ." 

Natalia bit her lip to keep from reassuring him she was there. 

How had she not noticed? How could she have missed the prosthetic? The scars? How distracted was she during their nights together that she noticed none of it? Or rather, how blind was she to the signs? 

She leaned over him carefully and picked up the material. She held it in her open palm, skin-side up. She watched as the areas over her hand blinked and flickered until the colour matched her skin tone. It flickered again before going back to James's. Natalia pushed her sleeve up and wrapped the veil over her wrist. 

She scoffed. "Clever," she murmured. 

James heard her and reached out absently. "Nat. . ."

Natalia moved out of reach, staring down at the prosthetic. She could not call it his arm. It wasn't. James wasn't the Winter Soldier. She could not look at James's face and the soldier's arm together. She had seperated them and could not see them as the same.

Like the apartment had caved in on her, Natalia remembered the first attempt on Howard's life. She had seen the arm. She knew it was out there. 

Had he really tried to kill Howard with the same strategy he used on the scientist four years ago? 

Or had he been aiming for her this time?

"You would really shoot me, darling?" she whispered, kneeling down again. She put her arms on the bed and laid her head on them. She watched his face carefully. "Did you know it was me then? Do you know who I am?" 

"Natalia. . . Я люблю тебя." 

Natalia froze. Did he mean it? Did she love him too? Could she, knowing who he was? How would she know if even meant it or if this whole thing was just to blend with civilians? Could he really mean it or could he have said it so often during his waking hours that he had started saying it in his sleep too? 

Or was she overthinking?

"Darling, do you really love me?" 

"I love you." 

"Who do you love, darling?" 

"Natalia." 

Natalia sighed. Should she stay? Should she go? Should she let him know that she knew? Should she still come clean? 

James, whose dreams had turned to nightmares, grunted and shifted as he saw Josef taking aim at Natalia while he was being restrained and under Karpov's watch. They were going to make him watch her murder. In his dreams, he shouted for her to get down. He yelled at Josef to stand down. He screamed at them not to kill her. He cursed and cried and called out. He prayed and hoped and begged. He threatened to burn down all of Hydra if they killed Natalia, his Widow.

What he mumbled in his sleep was something else entirely. Words slipped out here and there and when Natalia strung them together, she understood something far worse that any nightmare James could've been having then.

_Josef. Kill her. Burn. Kill the Widow._

Natalia left the apartment without waking James up.

One hour later, the sun had fully risen and James dragged himself out of bed. He dug around in the bags Hydra gave him for a new photostatic veil. He made sure the whole arm was properly concealed, scars and all, before throwing a shirt on and leaving his room. Natalia never went into his room so he knew it was safe to clean it later, when he was fully awake. 

He made his way to the kitchen quietly, hoping Natalia would sleep through it. He knew she could use some rest after last night. He pulled Natalia's omelette off just as the telephone rang. He made sure he'd turned the stove off before answering the cordless. 

"Barnes." 

"Jamie!" Ana cried, "merry Christmas!" 

James smiled at the framed photo of Natalia and Anthony on the wall. "Thank you, Ana. You're up early." 

"Did you just wake, dear? A bit late, isn't it?" 

"A bit," James agreed, glancing at the small clock on the table.

"Is Tallie not up yet?" 

James frowned. Eight and Natalia was still asleep? Her body clock always woke her up at six. Even if she did need the rest, she would be lazily slumping around the apartment, moving from her bed to the sofa to take a ten minute snooze there before demanding attention. "Surprisngly, no. Hang on, let me check." 

James walked down the hallway with the phone a little away from his ear. He knocked on the door. "Natalia?" He waited. He knocked again. "Doll, you awake yet?" 

"Nothing?" Ana asked. 

"No. Let me check inside." 

Ana laughed. "What happened after the movie last night that's got you two so tired?"

"Behave, Ana," James scolded lightly as he pushed down on the door handle. "Natalia, wh--"

"Jamie?" 

"She's not here."

"What? We thought she was still at home!"

"So . . . she's missing?"

"Hang on, Anthony's calling her cell." 

James nodded even though Ana couldn't see him. He soon heard a muffled ringing. "Ana."

"Yes, dear?" 

"Her phone's here."

Ana was silent on the other end for a moment. "I'm sending Jarvis out. Keep her cell on you. We'll call if we find anything."

James nodded again. "Likewise, Ana." 

Natalia was not found until two days later, when she dragged herself past security at Stark Manor and went straight to Howard's study, collapsing into the chair he kept in the corner for decoration and glancing at him every time she turned the page of the book she read. 

"Oh," Howard said suddenly.

"Hm?" Natalia hummed, not really interested. 

"Maria let someone in to the manor. I think it's your boyfriend." 

Natalia sat up quickly, dropping her legs to the wooden floor. "Are you sure?" 

Howard looked up at her. "No. Why don't you go and check?" 

Natalia did get up to go, but she never went to go and check who had arrived. She went upstairs, then further up into the attic, where she had stowed away snacks, binoculars, a few small weapons, and the speakers for the bugs she had around the manor. 

Downstairs, Maria informed James that Natalia had once again gone missing. They knew she was somewhere in the manor, but had no idea where.

"You can have a look around the place, dear, I'll get Jarvis and Anthony to help. She was just in the study with Howard. He said she left when I opened for you." 

James nodded. So she was avoiding him. Why? 

Had she figured something out the night before? Was it something he said? Something he did? 

James remembered peeling away the damaged veil. Had she been awake then? No, he was sure she was still asleep. Then what? 

She had clearly left before he even woke up. So what had she seen? 

The searched the entire manor inside and out, but could not find Natalia. She stayed tucked away in the attic Maria told her had been sealed for years, listening. 

* * *

And so it went on this way for a few months longer. James came daily to see if Natalia had decided to see him, or if he could even catch a glimpse of her running away. He came so often, Anthony added him to the home security system. 

James's priorities shifted and he didn't know what to do. For so long, all he knew was that Karpov's word was law. But how could he listen when he was told to leave the Widow or to kill her? He couldn't bring himself to even think of it. 

Nightmares plagued him. Nightmares about watching Josef stab her through the heart. Nightmares about being forced to watch several Hydra soldiers rain fire on her retreating figure. Nightmares about being forced to kill her. 

He knew what Hydra was. A year and longer away from their clutches and he was beginning to find some semblance of control. Some kind of free will. He began to see what they did to him. He heard whispers along the walls when Karpov wanted to meet him. 

They stole his memories. They stole his free will. They stole his control. They would do it again if he went back. If he fled, he would be running for the rest of his life. He would never see Natalia ever again. He would never see Anthony, Peggy, Ana, Maria, Jarvis. No one. He would be alone.

He would stay. If only to be with people who called themselves his family. If only to have a chance of seeing Natalia once more. 

Just once. 


	10. Chapter 10

"Soldier." 

James didn't move. 

"You have become a liability. But we are willing to give you an offer, in addition to your current assignment."

An ultimatum, James translated to himself as he raised his gaze to Karpov.

"We will not strike the Widow. All you must do is bring her to us."

"Bring her to you?"

"Yes, soldier. We want the Widow and we want her alive. We want her among our ranks. She will be . . . useful. This affection you have for her, if left unchecked, will grow stronger, until she is all that consumes your thoughts." 

James knew Karpov wanted to exploit that.

"She will be your partner." 

That shocked James. "My what?" 

"Your partner. How long has she been in plain sight yet still able to evade you and continue her own mission? How long has it been since Josef attacked? Say, four months? Four months, soldier, she has been right in front you and you have not seen her once. Clearly, you are matched in skill. In strength and in stealth. You would make a good team. Hydra will benefit greatly." 

James could only stare in stunned silence. 

"If you ever catch the Widow, tell her we are waiting with open arms. All she has to do is let you complete your mission."

* * *

James broke into the manor. He hadn't been thinking when he selected a window to pry open and he was immediately hit in the head with a curling iron. 

"Ow!" James cried, snatching the tool away from Peggy and holding it out threateningly. "That hurt, Pegs!" 

"Sorry! I thought you were the assassin!"

James was almost amused. 

"Why didn't you use the front door?" Peggy asked, taking Maria's curling iron back and going to put it away. 

"I didn't want Natalia to know I was here," he said, rubbing the back of his head. "She always flees whenever I come." 

"Well, she's just left. She'll be back tomorrow morning, most likely. Go home, Jamie, you need to sleep a little more." 

James sighed. "All right, Pegs. But please, please tell her I need to talk to her. It's important." 

"I will," Peggy said as she watched James walk to the door. She tilted her head when he paused in the doorway, hesitating.

"Could you -- could you tell her I love her? Please? And that I miss her." 

"I will," Peggy said again, softer. She waited until she got the alert that James had left the property before pulling the wardrobe open. "Why are you making me do this? I can't lie to him! I feel like I've kicked an innocent kitten!" 

"I'm sorry, Pegs," Natalia said softly, going to sit on the bed. She lifted her legs up as Maria rolled out from under it. "Sorry, we thought it was him and really you were safest under there."

Maria dusted herself off before sitting down next to Natalia. "Talk to him, sweetheart. Or talk to us. You can't keep hiding from him. You should see him, Tallie, he's a mess without you." 

Natalia kept silent. Peggy sighed. "Come on, let's get you to bed. Maria, you'll be fine?" 

"Yes, dear. Make sure she goes to sleep." 

"I will. Lock that window, just in case."

Once she got Natalia to the spare room she had claimed, Peggy closed the door and quickly locked it. She kept quiet as she crossed the room, locking the window and pulling the curtains closed. Then she pointed at the bed. "Sit." 

Natalia sat.

"Tell me the truth." 

"The truth?"

"Royale Rouge Security doesn't exist, does it? It's a cover. Tell me the truth, Tallie." 

"The truth," Natalia said again, rubbing her palms down her thighs. "The truth. . . I don't -- I don't know if you want to hear it." 

Peggy placed the length of the room for a few seconds. She stopped in front of the corner of the bed, in front of Natalia. "Fine. If you won't tell me, I'll make assumptions. I know you know how to lie, but I know it better. Don't try. You claim to be trained as both guardian and as killer. I've seen the things you've taught Anthony. Most of it is a dead art -- or it should be. Royale Rouge, double consonant. Can't be a co-incidence." 

Natalia looked calm as she waited, but her heart pounded in her ears. She almost missed Peggy's question. 

"You're a Red Room student, aren't you?"

"Agent, actually," Natalia corrected before realising. She clapped her hands to her mouth and stood up, staring at Peggy with wide eyes. 

"So you are Red Room, then. Tallie, I believe that you really are here to protect Howard, because I know he has something that people want. You must know it too, the s--"

"I DON'T WANNA HEAR IT!" 

Natalia continued making any noise she could as she clapped her hands to her ears and squeezed her eyes shut and shaking her head.

"Blah blah ablegh blurlba blah--"

"Why?" Peggy asked, pulling Natalia's hands down. 

Hesitating as she went, Natalia opened her eyes and stared into Peggy's. "I . . . If I know, my mission will change. If my mission changes . . . I'll have to leave." 

"Why don't you? Leave, that is."

Natalia looked down at her wrists that were enclosed in Peggy's hands. She missed lacing her fingers through James's. "I have nowhere else to go," she whispered, "all I've ever known is the Red Room. I lie to myself, telling myself I have freedom now that I've graduated. But I'll never be free from them. I'll never have a normal life. I'll never be able to make mistakes that don't end up killing people. I'll never be able to do things without having to worry about the consequences. I tell myself that I'm okay, that they can't hurt me anymore, control me, but look at me." 

Peggy searched Natalia's face as she smiled bitterly.

"I'm gagged with both hands tied behind my back. I can't say anything and I can't do anything to save myself. Ignorance is my last defence. As long as I never know what he wants from Howard, I'll never leave."

"He?" 

"The soldier." 

"The soldier," Peggy echoed, nodding. 

"James."

Peggy snapped her gaze back to Natalia. "What?" 

"The soldier, the one I told you about, the Winter Soldier. He, um, he's a Hydra weapon. A little like me. I'm a Red Room puppet. We're the same except . . . except I don't think he loves me like I love him." 

"Tallie. What are you saying?" 

Natalia's bitter smile held for a second longer before she dropped her head, a pitiful sob escaping her. She tried so hard to hold it all in. She tried so hard to keep it all locked up. But she was human, after all. 

Natalia collapsed in Peggy's arms.

* * *

"When we got out of the movie that night, some guy attacked." Natalia's voice was hollow. Her stare was empty. Her eyes were glassy and she barely moved a muscle. 

Peggy sat on the chair she'd pulled up to the bedside while Natalia sat up on the edge of the bed. 

"He was probably Hydra, out to get me. James fought back for a while until I thought, 'I should help, I'm the assassin', you know? So I jumped in and fought. The guy cut my leg somewhere, I don't remember, and I think I ripped those stitches I had. James took me back to the apartment, fixed me up, left some painkillers. When I woke up, I . . . I had this feeling that something was so horribly wrong. I couldn't shake it so . . . I went into his room. I found him there, sleeping. He would've looked so peaceful and at ease if it weren't for the arm. The metal arm, fused to his shoulder. I knew that arm. That arm pinned me to the wall in a dark alley, those fingers wrapped around my neck and squeezed until my lips turned blue. He warned me, he told me he would hold a gun to my head and I wouldn't leave." 

Peggy waited to see if Natalia had more to say and sure enough, the young woman delivered.

"I can't get that out of my head. Red Room agents and students don't dream. We don't imagine. We don't fear things. But I am terrified of the Soldier. I faced him when I was seventeen. I was almost eighteen, barely an agent. Four years and I still wake on odd nights from staring down the barrel of a gun, from the feeling of those cold fingers around my neck, from the brink of death, unable to breathe. Four years . . . four years and I'm still afraid I'm going to die at his hand. And now, these months, I don't know how many it's been, I see his face in my nightmares. I see his face threatening me. I see him holding that gun. I don't -- I don't know--"

"Tallie," Peggy said when it looked like Natalia had nothing else to say. She leaned forward, lower down to look under Natalia's curtain of red locks. "It looks to me that James is fighting the same demons you're struggling with. I know the Red Room and Hydra better than you think. Free will and choices aren't something commonplace. But love? Well, that's not even in their vocabulary. But somehow, you and James managed to find it. Don't let it go, Tallie, don't let this fall away because you're afraid. Part of living is being afraid. You and James have managed to find something so beautiful amongst all else you've known. Tallie, don't let Hydra or the Red Room take this away from you." 

"You loved Steve," Natalia said softly, lifting her head. "What was it like, to lose him?" 

"Oh, Tallie. It was awful. I can't begin to describe it. I -- I still don't quite know how I managed to stay on my feet that day. I knew I need to stand though. I just wonder if I should've let myself grieve for a day longer. But it's in the past. I can't go back there. Even if I could, I don't think I'd stay. I lost Steve a very long time ago. He is a chapter in my life that was very important to me, but it's over. There are still other chapters to come. Don't let yourself lose James. If you're meant to have him, nothing could ever keep you apart." 

Natalia nodded. "Thanks, Pegs." 

Peggy stood up and pushed Natalia under the covers. "Get some rest, dear. I'm going to call James tomorrow after you get back with Howard and you're going to talk to him. Okay?"

Natalia nodded again. Peggy smiled and bent forward to kiss Natalia's forehead. "That's my girl," she said softly. 

Outside, Peggy leaned against the wall and exhaled heavily. Oh, what a web they were all caught up in. 

* * *

"When were you going to tell me you're him? After you killed me?" 

Stunned, James had nothing to say. He had no idea what he should say. How long had she known? Had she found out the day she left? Was that why she had left.

"No answer?" She smiled, but there was nothing to it. She looked disappointed, dejected. "Good to know . . . Soldier." 

It took James a second to realise she was slowly walking towards the manor gates. "Natalia!" He reached out and grabbed her wrist.

"Don't touch me," she whispered, yanking her arm away. 

"Nat, please. I never wanted to lie to you, I just . . . you tell me, how do you tell someone you're a killer? Would you have been able to look me in the eyes and tell me you're the Black Widow?" 

Natalia stepped closer and stared up at James. "If I'd known you were the Winter Soldier, I'd have fled the apartment the moment I found out because nothing on this planet scares me more." 

"You . . . you're afraid of me?"

"I'm not afraid of you, James. I'm afraid of him." Natalia tapped his chest lightly. James was sure she meant the arm, and the Winter Soldier by default, but her finger tapped in time with the pounding in his ears and her hand lingered over his heart. "I'm afraid of what he'll do to me. I never ran away from you. I ran away from what you can become. I never ran away from the man I love. I ran from the man who swore to kill me."

James stood frozen, afraid that if he made any movement, she would step away and he would never have her so close again. He'd forgotten his promises.

* * *

The Winter Soldier sat in wait. When he saw the Black Widow walk out, he stood up and followed her. When she walked past an alley, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her in, pinning her against the wall.

They stood for a moment, masked assassins, both the best in their organisations. 

The Widow made no move to attack. She didn't want to start. She knew about him. If she wanted to beat him, she would have to learn his style. She stood little to no chance in this seemingly fair fight. So she stood still. 

" _You stole my scientist_ ," he hissed. The Russian sounded natural to him. She wondered where the Winter Soldier was from, really. She wondered why he spoke in Russian when both knew the other was fluent in eight or more languages, including the English they had previously conversed in.

" _It's not my fault you weren't good enough_." 

The Soldier growled and moved his arm away from her neck, only to close his fingers around her throat. He held firmly for a moment, not yet squeezing. " _I won't kill you tonight, even though I can. I'll find you another day. You won't see me coming. You'll be looking over your shoulder for the rest of your life_." 

The Widow gasped as he began to tighten his grip.

" _One day, I'll hold a gun to your head and you'll have nowhere to go. You'll stand there, because you'll know it's your end_." 

The Widow desperately clawed at the superpowered prosthetic in futility. Her eyes began to water as she struggled to find air. The Soldier leaned closer. If it weren't for his mask, she would have felt his breath on her ear. 

" _I'll kill you on some deserted street. Your body will never be found. No one will ever miss you_." 

He let go of her and stood back as she slumped on the ground, coughing and gasping as she held her hand to her throat. He watched with unblinking eyes. " _The next time we meet, it'll end with my gun to your head. That, I can promise you._ "


	11. Chapter 11

"I never told you because I was afraid of this. I knew you were the Widow a week before Christmas at least. I thought about telling you every day, but I was sure youd react horribly and I'd lose you." 

Natalia hugged herself and looked up at James. "You mentioned nightmares . . . what were they about?"

"You," James said, "you dying. Various ways. All very terrible, very traumatising. Josef, the one that attacked us on Christmas eve, he features in a lot of them." 

"How do I die? In your nightmares."

James shrugged. "Oh, you know . . . impaled, beheaded, shot in the head, shot in the heart, stabbed in the heart, ambush, rain of bullets from Hydra agents, starved, tortured, the works." 

Natalia's eyebrows rose. "Any of them have your hand in it?" 

"One," James admitted. He frowned at the carpet of Natalia's current bedroom. "Hydra can do this . . . thing. I'm not sure what it is. It's new. I don't remember what happens in between. I hear some agents talking. Says it turns me into a machine, obeying every order. They call it effective. Really bad nights are the ones where they use it and I come back to your dead body. I never know what happened, but I know I did it. It -- it -- sometimes it's really bad. Sometimes it's a clean shot. Sometimes you're covered in bruises. I -- I don't want to talk about it." 

Natalia walked up to James and took his hands in hers. "Don't. Just . . . do you love me? Do you really love me?" 

James tightened his hands around hers. "More than anything or anyone I've ever known."

"How much?" 

James offered her a small smile. "Completely, doll." 

Natalia watched him carefully. "I want to believe you but I know myself, and I know that _I_ would lie to me. I don't know."

"I don't expect you to, doll, I just need to let you know that I stopped chasing the Widow the day I met you outside our apartment. I only realised it that night. I just need you to know that you're what I'm going to miss. One way or another, this is going to end. Either I succeed, or you succeed. But either way, we won't get to stay here. When Hydra takes me back, you're what I'm going to miss. You, with your bright smile, your twinkling eyes, your infectious laugh. You and your annoying habit of being unable to remember where anything goes, that horrified face you make when you taste your own cooking, the fact that your bras somehow manage to hang from the top of the fridge and finding heels in the freezer, that stupid face you make everytime I suggest cleaning the apartment, when you curse under your breath in Russian and you think I can't hear, the fact that you hate the toothpaste I buy, when you want attention and you'll do anything to get it, those little ballet moves you subconsciously do when you actually get cleaning --" 

Natalia shut him up quickly by lifting up on tiptoes and briefly brushing her lips over his. She leaned against him, using his arms for support as she stayed balancing on her toes. "Love me," she whispered.

"How much?" James asked without hesitation. 

"Completely," she said, silently daring him to deny her.

* * *

"I see the two of you have ironed things out," Ana commented when James joined them at breakfast in the courtyard.

"At least you didn't have to hear them ironing until three in the morning," Maria grumbled, snapping her toast in half. 

James hid his face behind a mug while Natalia pretended like she hadn't just choked on her coffee. 

"I only got back with Howard at one," Natalia said, turning her nose up, "your husband is to blame for how late it was." 

"Oh?" Maria said, raising an eyebrow. "Am I to assume that the two of you wouldn't have been slamming the ironing board against the wall if Howard had come home earlier?"

"We would've done it in our own apartment," James muttered.

Anthony cleared his throat. "Can we please not discuss your sex life in front of my oats?" 

"Sorry, darling," Natalia said, "but this is all on your mother." 

"Tallie!"

"What? You started with me!" 

James laughed softly and pulled her closer, chair and all, to kiss her cheek. "You're so childish, doll." 

Anthony rolled his eyes. "You watch too many old movies, Uncle Jamie. Who even calls other people 'doll' anymore?"

"Why not?" James asked, grinning.

"It sounds so . . . _blergh_. Like I just imagine one of those porcelain creeps with Aunt Tal's face on them. Eugh." 

"Anthony Edward Stark, did you just subtly call me ugly?" 

"What? No!" 

"Besides," James said, "I've barely seen any movies, let alone old ones." 

"No, I don't mean old black-and-white stuff. I mean like, movies set in like really old times. Like that stupid World War 2 romance movie where that soldier got drafted and in all his letters home, he called that girl 'doll' and then when he got back, he realised he forgot her name. . ."

While Anthony rambled on about the movie that truthfully sounded like she would have seen it, Peggy's mind drifted. There was something nagging her. She just couldn't put her finger on it. It bugged her the entire day, as well as the next.

* * *

"Jamie! Hello, love!" 

"Evening, Peggy," James said, leaving Ana to greet Peggy. "All good?"

"Yes, why?" 

"You're . . . bouncing. You never bounce. Uh, is Natalia back yet?" 

Peggy's eyebrows lifted, as if she'd just realised something. "No! They're still out. Howard's got something big going on at work these days so he spends a lot of time there. Anyway, come with me. I've got something I want to ask you." 

"No problem," James said, offering Pegyy his arm.

"Why, thank you, Sergeant Barnes." 

She hadn't called him that since the day they'd met in the hospital and James had almost forgotten he reminded Peggy of someone in her past. Still, he didn't call attention to it. People made mistakes all the time.

Peggy walked until they were in Howard's study where she was sure they wouldn't be disturbed. "Jamie, I want to know a few things from you." 

"Uh, sure. What's up?"

"What's your full name?"

James laughed slightly, grinning until he realised Peggy was serious. "James Buchanan Barnes. Why?"

"What is the name of the person you know best and what is the name of the person who knows the most about you?"

"Oh, that's easy, they're both Natalia." 

"Jamie, do you even know your birthday?" 

"Yeah. It's tenth March." 

Peggy stepped closer to James. "What year?" she asked softly. "In what year were you born?"

"Peg, what's going on with you?"

"You don't know, do you?"

"Of course I know! It's nineteen--! Uh. . ."

Peggy stared at James for a second. "Seventeen. You were born in 1917, Jamie. You served in the war. You died in the war. Your best friend was Steve Rogers. You had three little sisters and you all lived with your parents. You and your family was all Steve had. You . . . you were my best friend too." 

James stared at Peggy. "You're joking. You're making it up."

"Why would I make this up, Jamie? Do you really think I'm that desperate to have something to hold on to from some of the best days in my life?" 

"Peg . . . it doesn't make sense. Look at you! Look at me! I don't look anything near your age!"

"I don't know how it happened, Jamie, but I know that once upon a time, you used to be Bucky Barnes. You used to braid my hair, you used to make the best tea I ever had, you used to always say that you'd bring me home so the girls could meet their older sister, you said we would all make it out of the war, you said you would help Howard with that stupid car, you said you were gonna get me married to Steve, you said so many things and then you went and DIED!"

James just managed to dodge Peggy's left hook. 

"Peggy Carter, what is _wrong_ with you?!"

"You promised you'd help us win the war and we had to do it without you!" 

"That wasn't me, Peggy!" 

"Bullshit, Barnes! What's stopping you from remembering me?"

James's jaw dropped. " _My memory_ is the biggest problem you have with this theory of yours?! If I'm really your best friend, I should be looking like you!"

"Theory?!" Peggy cried, "I know you're Bucky and I pray that it's not too late when you remember!"

* * *

Peggy's outburst sat on James's mind for days.

"What's on your mind, darling?" Natalia asked one afternoon, leaning over James's shoulder to steal a few fries.

"Nothing, doll," James lied, smiling and snatching one of the fries from her hand with his mouth. "Stop stealing my food." 

Natalia rolled her eyes and grabbed two more before sitting across James. "Don't lie to me, darling, you're not that good at it."

James debated lying again, but decided she was right. Once she'd looked past the Winter Soldier, she stopped being blind to all his little lies too. Not that the reverse wasn't true. 

"Hydra wants you." 

Natalia froze with her hand over the fries. "What?" 

"Hydra wants me to recruit you." 

"You can't recruit me. I'm Red Room!"

"Try telling that to Karpov. He's a bitch when he wants to be." 

Natalia rolled her eyes. "Maybe he and Barkova are siblings."

"Barkova?"

"Madame B, her name is Vladimira Barkova. Didn't you know?"

"No. Should I have?"

Natalia shrugged. "Maybe not. Anyway, how would Hydra even manage that? Madame B doesn't let her students and agents go that easy." 

"Well, Karpov never explained that bit, but I'm pretty sure he's not talking about getting Madame's permission for this."

Natalia pulled her hand back and slumped into a normal seated position in her chair. "Hydra wants me to ditch the Red Room," she said, "as if I were trying to escape." 

James nodded. "I believe so. There are numerous ways we could do that and I'm sure you've run through them all already, knowing that none would work but. . ."

"James, are you actually considering this?" 

"Yes, Natalia. I am. Because I don't want to spend the rest of my life running, looking over my shoulder. I don't want that for me and I sure as hell don't want it for you. Do you think things have gotten better because we know about each other? No! It's probably gotten worse! Because when this is over, Hydra's going to take me back and wipe my memory. I won't remember you. I won't be able to miss you. And worst of all, I'll hate you all over again! I won't remember loving you! And you! _You_ won't get that luxury. You'll have to see me hating you while remembering a time when I loved you! Knowing you, you'd stand your ground and you'd let me shoot you! Because I know me, and I know I'd rather die trying to save you than fight you to survive. If we do this," James had stood up and now leaned on the table, palms on either side of his forgotten food, "there is a chance that won't happen. There's a chance at a life for us. We'd be partners. We'd be together. Hydra isn't saving us, but it would protect you from the Red Room." 

Natalia blinked very slowly. "I can't kill Howard," she whispered, "I can't do that to them." 

"You don't have to do it. You just have to let me." 

"I can't -- I can't let you kill Howard. I -- he's my mission!" 

"And mine." 

Natalia shook her head, trying to find her footing in this whole disaster. 

"And one way or another, doll, one of us is going to have to lose this mission."


	12. Chapter 12

"Have you decided, doll?" 

Natalia was suddenly very aware of the prosthetic resting on her body. James's heartbeat pounded in her ears, but she didn't lift her head from his chest. Her shirt shifted and the circles James was making came into contact with her skin. She inhaled sharply at the sudden drop in temperature. 

"Doll?" 

"Hm?"

"I have to do it soon. Hydra is getting impatient. If I don't succeed, they'll come after you. Either way, Howard dies before the new year comes in." 

"James, I can't kill him. I've spent two years protecting him from this. I've spent two years almost living in the manor. I'm going to be the godmother of Peggy's nephew's third kid! I -- I can't throw their lives into hell like that." 

"Doll, if you don't want to do this, you don't have to. Red Room will protect you from Hydra and so will I, to the best of our ability. But you're the Black Widow, you can take care of yourself. Just . . . please don't make me shoot you to get it done." 

"Howard is my mission, darling, and nothing is going to stop me from completing it."

* * *

Peggy was on edge every since she had inadvertently eavesdropped on the conversation between the two assassins in the courtyard. She could say something to one of them, or even to Howard himself, but something told her to keep quiet. 

She hated feeling helpless at her own expense. She knew what she could do and she thought she knew what she should do but she did none of that. 

Peggy hated it. 

She was absently stirring her tea, contemplating her choices, when Natalia burst into the living room. She'd heard the banging upstairs but she'd just assumed there was no need to worry. 

"Tallie, dear, was that you upstairs just now?" she asked, taking in Natalia's frazzled look. The only time Peggy had ever seen Natalia so frazzled was on the mornings Natalia slept over, before she'd had her coffee.

"Howard's gone," Natalia said, holding onto the doorframe. "Howard, Maria, Anthony and . . . and no one's picking up the phone at home." 

"James." 

The tea, long forgotten, slid to the floor. The cup did not shatter but its contents splattered over the carpet. Slowly, as Peggy hurried away, the tea seeped into the carpet, staining it deeply. 

"Get Jarvis on the phone!" Peggy yelled for Ana, "Tallie, get into Howard's computer and track Anthony's cell! Tallie?" 

Peggy called for Natalia. Ana called for her. When Jarvis found them, he called for her. 

But Natalia was long gone, stealing Anthony's motorcycle and tracking the Starks with Red Room resources. 

* * *

"We should've brought Aunt Tal. It's her job to be looking after you at all times. You're the one who even hired her in the first place."

Howard glanced at Anthony in the mirror. "We're going to destroy something. I don't trust it in anyone's hands." 

Anthony rolled his eyes. "I don't trust anyone's hands except hers," he grumbled. 

Maria glanced back at her son and sighed. "Anthony--" She screamed when a body hit the front of their car, shattering the windscreen. 

Howard hit dead breaks and the woman rolled off. Maria screamed again when someone else landed in front of the car, as if he'd jumped from a plane or a zipline, knocking her down. 

The Starks watched as Natalia yanked the helmet off and swung it at her attacker's head. Furiously, Natalia swung with the helmet, it being her only weapon.

"You came out here unarmed?!" James cried when he realised it.

"I had no warning!" Natalia yelled, catching James in the head with the helmet. James snatched it from her grasp and dealt her an equal blow. 

While Natalia stumbled and tried to regain her footing, James readied his gun and aimed for Howard. 

"No!" Natalia cried, knocking James off. Neither expected the bullet to hit Maria.

"Mom!" 

"Stop the bleeding!" Natalia yelled at Anthony. "Use my scarf! It's under her seat!" 

"What's your scarf doing in his car?" 

"Now?!" Natalia shrieked, "you wanna do this now?! You shot Maria!" 

"You threw me off!" 

With a strangled yell, Natalia launched herself at James. Having had enough, James dragged Natalia away from the car. 

Anthony watched from the window, pulling Natasha's scarf taught over his mother's body.

Outside, Natalia wrenched away from James and stood firm, head held high. She watched him carefully, mouth set in a firm line. The wind in the empty cliffs whipped her crimson curls around, periodically obscuring her vision. She knew what was about to happen.

"There's still time, doll. We can do it differently." His voice dropped to a whisper. "We can still run."

The glimmer of mischief in Natalia's eyes had vanished. James had gotten too used to seeing them filled with adoration and amusement for him, for Anthony. The emerald seemed all the more prominent as her eyes shone with unshed tears for a story ended too soon. She would not run. She knew what was coming.

"You knew it would come to this, darling."

James hesitated as he held his gun up. For the first time in his life, his hand shook. 

"Я люблю тебя." 

In the car, Anthony screamed. Natalia crumpled to the stones beside the street. He let go of the scarf he'd been pulling tight and scrambled from the car while Howard shouted for him to stay put. Almost as soon as he'd fallen to the gravel, James fired a single, clean shot to Howard and headed to the trunk.

The billionaire slumped over in his seat, dead. James pried the trunk open. Briefcase in hand, he walked back to Natalia, whom Anthony had almost reached. 

"Stay back!" Anthony yelled, struggling to find his feet.

"You're a good kid," James said once he'd gathered Natalia in his arms, "stay down." 

"Like hell," Anthony growled, finding his feet and running towards James. 

James hesitated at first, but he knew he'd never get away from Anthony.

"Sorry, kid," he mumbled, letting Anthony run right into the briefcase and trip over Natalia's discarded helmet. 

It was a good thing Howard had the sense to call the cops and then Peggy as soon as James had landed beside Natalia. 

Peggy arrived first with Jarvis and Ana less than two minutes after James left with Natalia.

* * *

Howard's funeral service was large, silent, sombre, formal and somewhat dignified. Two or three people gave eulogies. Anthony was not one of them. People left single roses on the casket and offered condolences to the family that sat before the coffin with blank expressions and empty eyes. Rhodes sat beside Anthony, regularly checking up on his best friend. 

Natalia's memorial service was small, the quiet punctuated by sniffles and sobs from her family. There were no formalities and the tie Anthony had worn to Howard's funeral was long discarded. Rhodes knelt beside Anthony at the empty casket, rubbing his best friend's back. Natalia's family left bouquets at the headstone and sat for at least an hour together, quietly comforting each other. No one gave a eulogy. No one could hold their tears long enough to speak.

* * *

Peggy knocked on the bedroom door before opening it slowly. "Ana said you were looking for me, dear."

"It was Jamie, wasn't it?"

Peggy sighed as she closed the door behind her. She walked over to the bed and sat down at the foot. "Maria, you know he was forced into this just as Tallie was." 

"She didn't kill anyone, Peg." 

"Maria. There was nothing he could've done. Any other option made them fugitives. They would have died. It was him or a criminal organisation. She made her choice. Let her have that." 

"You knew all along." 

"I -- yes. For the better part of this year. I knew."

"And you never said." 

"It wasn't my secret to share." 

Maria sighed, wincing when the movement sent tingles of pain through her body. "How did Tallie stand this?" 

"Well, given that she's a world-class agent, I'm going to go with the fact that it wasn't her first time getting shot. How do you feel? Some tea?" 

"What I'd like is to find Jamie and beat some sense into him."

Peggy, despite having lost two of her best friends four days ago, laughed. "Oh, darling, there's no finding Jamie. He's gone and he's taken Tallie with him. We'd be lucky to glimpse him again."

* * *

Hundreds of miles away, Natalia groaned. Her head spun. Her ears rung as if she'd been standing too close to concert speakers. She was sure if they bled or not, but at least the ringing was receding. Shaking the feeling off, she forced her eyes open. 

Snow.

She could see snow, stretching for miles. She shivered in her uniform. 

"Let her go!" 

"Restrain him." 

"You gave me your word!" 

"Did you honestly trust the word of a Hydra captain? My word, Soldier, she's made you soft!" 

Natalia blinked through the snow and saw about five agents holding someone down. The man stopped fighting when he noticed she'd woken.

"Nat! Natalia! Stand up, doll, fight them!"

Fight who? Why? He sounded familiar, but with the ringing and the wind, she couldn't quite focus.

"Babydoll, please! I know you can do it!" 

The man that stood halfway between her and the soldier smiling. "Take a good look, Soldier. See how she looks at you. She doesn't know you." 

Natalia frowned. She had no idea what was going on. She was just grateful for the hands that held her on the cliff or she'd have fallen a long time ago. 

"Natalia! You need to fight back! You need to fight! Please, I know you can do it. Please come back to me!" 

The other man laughed. "Leave her. See where she goes."

The hands left Natalia. She had just woken from what she assumed was a little nap. She was dizzy and unstable. The wind was violent and strong. The snow was slippery. 

James screamed her name as she fell backwards. They never heard the splash. Karpov laughed again. "No widow, no problem. Take him back to base and wipe him." 

James had gone limp, no longer having a reason to fight. Somewhere at the bottom of the cliff, lay his heart, still and broken. 


	13. Bonus Chapter

Clinton Francis Barton was carefree, fun-loving, a general clown and loved to play around, even at twenty-five. 

"Snowball fight!" he yelled, catching a brunette in the back of her head. 

"Clint!" 

"Sorry, Hill! Hey, could you tell Fury to lighten up?" 

Nick Fury, a man who would scare the dead, turned a glare on Clint so heated, Clint swore the snow around him melted. Given that Fury only had one eye, it was an incredible feat. 

"Get away from the edge, Clint," the woman, Maria Hill, warned, "you're going to get hurt." 

"Hurt?" Clint asked, scoffing. He ignored the three plasters on his arm from the scratches he received climbing a tree in Washington, as well as the bandage wrapping his hand and forearm from spraining his wrist trying to copy Juni Cortez. "I'm never hurt!" 

Clint proceeded to do some horrible ballet while Hill and Fury ignored him. 

"You said the signale was traced here?" Fury asked. 

Hill glanced at her tablet. "Yes, sir. Two days ago, dated May first, 2008, an unidentified beacon went off."

"But none of our agents have ever been to Canada on assignments of any kind. Why would Shield receive a beacon tracing back here?" 

Hill shrugged. "Records say the beacon resembles something from as far back as the seventies. Belonged to an old criminal organisation called--"

"BARTON!" 

Hill looked up as Fury rushed to the edge off the cliff. Clint was missing.

"I'm alive!" Clint grunted on the frequency. "I just broke some ice and caused a minor avalanche. Hey, there's a tunnel now!"

"Clint, don't go into the--"

"I'm goin' into the tunnel," Clint said, ignoring Hill.

"This is so cool. Hey, if I cause a second avalanche, you'll get a rescue team here before I freeze to death, right?"

"Tempted not to," Fury grumbled, "what do you see?"

"Lot of ice. More ice. Just ice. Oh, look! Some ice!" Then he screamed. "Hey, I found a body!" 

"Is it alive?" Hill eventually questioned. 

"It's frozen. And there's something beeping in there. Flashing too. Might be our beacon." 

Hill glanced at Fury. 

"Call in a rescue team," Fury ordered, the same time Hill murmured, "Calling in a rescue team." 

Down beneath the cliff, Clint stared at the suspended body, whose crimson hair hid her face from view. 

"Black Widow," Clint murmured, recognising the symbol on her uniform belt.

_**T H E B L A C K W I D O W** _

_**W I L L R E T U R N** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this in 16 days please accept my offerings
> 
> Also book 2 is currently being written please stand by


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